


Autoclave

by DeceptivelyPolite



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: #Where'sLoki, Also Cockblocking Thor, Author is Not Great at Writing Action, Author is Prone to Editing After Posting, Avengers Family, BAMF Bruce Banner, Canon-Typical Violence, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint is Done With This Shit, Cockblocking Loki, Consent Issues, Denial Isn't Just A River, Don't piss off Jarvis, Hand Wavy Comic Book Magic, Hand Wavy Comic Book Science, Hindsight is a bitch, Jarvis is done with this shit, Lazy Worldbuilding, Loki Does What He Wants, Loki Doesn't Understand Personal Space, Loki shenanigans, Loki's poor life choices, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Not Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Not Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase Two Compliant, Oblivious Tony, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Poor Life Choices, Possessive Loki, Protective Avengers, Protective Loki, Rating May Change, Stalking, Terrible Marvel Supervillains, That Should be the Summary of This Fic, Thor Needs to Learn How to Read a Room, Thor is Not Helping, Tony Stark Hates Magic, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Wingman Thor, fair warning, it's complicated - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-01-30 15:45:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12656559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeceptivelyPolite/pseuds/DeceptivelyPolite
Summary: As like most of Tony's problems, the beginning was innocuous.Loki's interest in him.OrA story of love, jealousy, and socially inappropriate courting methods.





	1. One Single Static Frame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Tony has a problem._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **EDITED 1-9-18:** To fix a couple dumb mistakes I found.

_au·to·clave_  
  
_Noun_

_A strong, heated container used for chemical reactions and other processes using high pressures and temperatures._

_A pressure chamber._

 

 

 _"I'm so hungry I could eat one of those giant squids right about now,"_ Clint said, his voice ragged with exhaustion and rough over the steady hum of the Quinjet's engines. _"I mean, there's some poetic justice in that, right? They snapped us down like tasty squid bait, so we return the fuckin' favor."_  
  
_"I thought I was clear when I told you we are never to speak of that again."_   Natasha's tone was sweet and casual in a way that was anything but sweet and casual. Tony could only imagine the look she shot Barton and snorted when he heard Clint choke and try to cover it up with an unconvincing cough. Somewhere in the background, Tony heard Bruce's sleepy laughter.  
  
Grinning for the first time in hours Tony darted ahead of the Quinjet as honor guard, Avengers Tower lined up in the sights of his HUD.  
  
_Home._  
  
"Fear not, Birdbrain. If I know my AI – which, obviously – there should be an obscene amount of greasy Chinese food on its way to the Tower as we speak."  
  
_"Indeed, Sir. The food arrived twenty-seven minutes ago and is awaiting you all on the common floor."_  
  
Clint moaned, exaggerated and borderline obscene. _"Oh God, JARVIS, you're my favorite."_  
  
_"However,"_ JARVIS continued, _"I am afraid it may be necessary to reheat the food as it has gone rather cold. I underestimated the length of time required to debrief with SHIELD post-battle."_

 _"If Clint is contemplating gigantic mutant calamari I think cold rice and orange chicken is more than adequate,"_ Steve laughed. _"Thank you, JARVIS. That was very thoughtful."_  
  
_"It is my pleasure, Captain Rogers."_  
  
"Hey, stop sounding so surprised," Tony said in mock offense. "Don't forget I wrote JARVIS' code."  
  
_"Which is why it's all the more impressive that JARVIS has grown to_ _be such a considerate, well-rounded person with only you as a role model in his formative years."_

 _"I do try, Dr.Banner."_  
  
" _Et Tu_ , Brucie? That hurts. That's offensive, I am offended. Everyone knows I make all the best stuff."  
  
_"Really?"_ Coulson chimed in. _"Need I remind you of the Toaster Uprising of 2013?"_  
  
"Okay, that – I thought we all agreed that I'm not responsible for the actions of any appliance I build an AI into when I blackout engineer."  
  
_"I still don't know how you won that argument."_

 _"Or how that's even a thing that we keep bringing up in casual conversation."_  
  
_"Or a real sentence."_  
  
_"And why have we not yet addressed the issue of Tony 'blackout engineering?'"_

 _"Is anyone even going to mention what happened with the Roombas?"_  
  
"But! Household appliance revolutions aside, I am awesome, and by virtue of that fact _JARVIS_ is awesome, the veracity of which should never be questioned." Closing in on Avengers Tower, Tony picked up speed and circled around it just for the joy of it, because he could, because flying would always be one of the best parts of being Iron Man. He'd never felt so free as when flying.  
  
_And freedom's certainly hard to come by right now._  
  
He sent a cheeky wave at Clint in the Quinjet's cockpit and banked back around to his private landing pad on the penthouse balcony. "And really, J, I don't think any of us expected an evil marine biologist with an inferiority complex and his giant squid pals to warrant a two hour debrief. What, exactly, did Fury want us to say other than 'we came, we saw, we made sushi?'"  
  
_"You do realize that Fury drags debriefs out as a passive-aggressive power play just to mess with you, right?"_ Natasha said, and Tony swore he could hear her smirking. _"Particularly when you're stuck in the armor covered in something unspeakable."_  
  
Tony dropped on the landing platform with an emphatic clank and belayed the armor removal sequence with a curt hand gesture. "Hey, that is _not_ – okay, maybe that's true, but – "  
  
_"All right, all right, enough,"_ Steve cut in, heading off Tony's rant before he could really get started. Steve's authoritative air was ruined by Steve snorting in laughter at the end of the order. _"Everyone get cleaned up and we'll meet on the common floor for dinner in twenty. Sound good?"_  
  
"Uh, no can do on the twenty, Cap," Tony said, the lie flowing easily off his tongue. He re-engaged the armor removal sequence with a "come hither" gesture and started walking down the pathway. "It's gonna take a little time and finesse to get the armor off, after playing with that squid. I'll be down once it's sorted out."  
  
_"Do you need any help?"_ Bruce asked, much more alert than before and his tone tipping the scales towards concerned.  
  
"Nah, I've got it, Brucie-bear," Tony said, a tendril of guilt twisting in his gut at the deceit.  
  
It was no small thing, Bruce's desire to be with the team, to stay in New York with them. To be a part of a group, their strange makeshift family, and open himself up to other people and form real relationships for the first time in years. Bruce had gained so much confidence since that first, fateful meeting on the hellicarrier. He'd found a purpose, and something more in the Hulk than death and destruction and fear, and with Tony's help reawakened his love of science and discovery.

Bruce had damn well learned to strut, and it was enough to make Tony want to cry. To turn Bruce's earnest offer of help and companionship down now felt like the worst of betrayals.  
  
_Just a few minutes alone,_ Tony reminded himself, _that's all I want. I'm allowed to want five minutes to myself._  
  
"The damaged panels in the midsection just need a bit more persuasion to release. A little time in the shop with the bots and maybe a crowbar and I'll be back in business." The assembly rings stripped Tony of his armor piece by piece as he meandered down the walkway, and JARVIS switched the comm link over to to the nearest speakers without being asked because JARVIS is the _best_.  
  
_"Are you sure you're all right? That squid had a hell of a hold on you,"_ Steve said, his "Captain" voice edging back to the forefront in spite of post-battle exhaustion. _"Your armor buckled like a tin can where it grabbed you."_  
  
The last thing Tony needed was for Steve to switch back over to helicopter-bodyguard mode, not if he wanted five seconds by himself to just _breathe_. "Yes, mom, I'm fine," Tony snarked.

He had to bite his lip bloody a second later when the walkway bots pulled at the damaged midsection of the suit and pain, sharp and hot, raced across Tony's ribs and down his spine.  
  
_Okay, this might be worse than I thought . . ._  
  
_"At the very least one of us wouldn't mind staying with you while you and the bots 'finesse' the armor,"_ Natasha murmured, soft and fond and totally disarming in a way that caused the guilt in Tony's gut to swell.  
  
_"I really don't think 'finesse' should ever be used in relation to Tony's bots."_  
  
"Hey, fuck you, Barton. Come talk to me about the shortcomings of my robots after you build some of your own," Tony said, hoping the gasp of pain that slipped out sounded like indignation. "And seriously, I can go ten minutes without a babysitter. It's fine, I'm fine, nothing is going to happen. I'll be down as soon as I'm free, and Thor, I swear, if you eat all of the crab rangoons again I'm evicting you." Thor's booming laughter echoed from the speakers and absolved Tony's fear that his voice had sounded as strained as it had felt coming out.  
  
JARVIS cut the connection just in the nick of time.

Tony shouted in pain, his breath stuttering in his lungs when the walkway bots gave a valiant tug on the crushed armor at Tony's waist. For one long, agonizing minute Tony thought he would have to call for help after all, or faint, or both, until the pressure suddenly released with the shriek of stressed metal and a sickening squelch. The damaged pieces of the Mark 41 tumbled to Tony's feet like so much gold titanium scrap metal.  
  
The relief of being freed from the armor was short lived. Pain flared raw and bright across Tony's left side, visceral and present in a way it hadn't been with the stabilizing pressure and pain management of the suit's medical protocols. Tony staggered and swayed on his feet, but caught himself on the nearest walkway apparatus as he breathed through the pain and attempted to will away his weak knees and spotty vision, while at the same time drafting contingency plans to waylay the inevitable epic chewing-out he's going to get in SHIELD medical after the others find him passed out on the balcony.  
   
_Cap is going to kill me._  
  
Steve didn't know how right he was about that squid's grip. Tony really must be doing something wrong if one hard squeeze from a giant cephalopod is enough to buckle one of the most reinforced sections of the armor like an aluminum can.  
  
Miraculously, after a few minutes of careful breathing and fevered fantasies of what the others would do to him if he ended up in the hospital for something as stupid as lying about being injured to gain a few unsupervised minutes (including but not limited to: sad puppy eyes, death threats, and being read the riot act), the pain subsided. A tension Tony hadn't realized he'd had loosened in his chest, and he took a cautious step away from the robot arm he'd been gripping for dear life. The arm whirred and chirped at him in question. "Yeah, buddy, I think I'm good," Tony said, giving the arm an awkward pat, his steps surer as he made his way inside into the penthouse proper.  
  
JARVIS raised the lights to an unobtrusive glow as Tony peeled up the top of his undersuit to survey the damage, greeted by the sight of a large cross-section of ragged lacerations curling around his side and the bottom of his ribcage like a macabre cummerbund. Really it was much better than Tony had anticipated, but the lacerations were bleeding freely at the left side of his waist where the damage was the worst and had to be attended to fast.  
  
_I've handled worse._  
  
Tony made tracks to the kitchen for the heavy duty first aid kit, moving slow and stiff and trying to staunch the blood enough to stop it from dripping on the carpet, because wouldn't _that_ be awkward to explain to whoever was taking the nighttime rotation of Stark-sitting tonight.

He isn't dumb enough to harbor any illusions that the fact he's injured will escape the team entirely once he joins the post-squid-attack festivities, but if Tony handled the worst of it now he'd have a much better chance of downplaying the severity and not lose workshop privileges for pithy things like bed rest. He's already been restricted, and for his very sanity, Tony needs to be able to work and feel even the least bit useful.  
  
Tony dug the first aid kit out of the cabinet next to the refrigerator with a grunt and a wince and opened it up on the countertop next to the sink. "J, anything scary going on internally that I should know about?" Tony snagged the hem of his top with his teeth to hold it out of the way, which, yeah that was kind of gross, but priorities.

Tony dabbed at the wounds with a hand towel in the long beat of silence that indicated JARVIS' disapproval of Tony's life choices before responding with his version of a long-suffering sigh.  
   
_"You have three fractured ribs and significant soft tissue damage on your abdomen, back, and chest, as well as numerous minor abrasions and bruising elsewhere,"_ JARVIS said, _"and while my scans indicate no other anomalies I highly recommend allowing Dr.Banner – "_  
  
"Nope, not happening, J. I can handle this just fine on my own."  
  
_"Sir."_ JARVIS pressed, as insistent and reproachful as Edwin Jarvis would sound if he were there – _and isn't that just something?_  
  
_"JARVIS,"_ Tony echoed, gingerly cleaning his bleeding side. "I just . . . I need a break. The past couple months have been so fucking weird, and while I appreciate everything the team is doing for me – because seriously, I didn't think half of them even really liked me that much let alone enough to become my own version of the Secret Service – I just really need five minutes without someone hovering over me playing guard dog. It's not like I'm some helpless damsel in distress, and it's so frustrating that I can't . . . that I can't stand well enough on my own to handle matters myself." Tony pressed the towel to his side for a moment, the aching throb centering him as he stared off unfocused into the living room contemplating his predicament.  
  
It was overwhelming, in truth, the way the team had rallied themselves around Tony when he was threatened. All these weeks later Tony still struggled to reconcile the fact that these people – these fierce, brilliant, amazing, beautiful people – cared. About Tony.  
  
As much as Tony had been able to convince himself that he was tolerated at best by the Avengers over the past year, having to spend six weeks with at least one of them shadowing him at all times sufficiently blew that hypothesis out of the water. Sure, they'd all taken his invitation to stay with him at the Tower after the Incident, eventually. But before this latest plot twist in Tony's sorry excuse of a life, Tony had been allowed to distance himself enough to convince himself he was being humored when they hung around him or invited him to group activities.

_Get too close to the fire and you get burned._

But now that Tony's life had spiraled into a steaming pile of crazy Tony knew what he hadn't allowed himself to see when he kept himself on the sidelines.  
  
Steve's dry humor and sass, his gentle smiles and brash stubbornness. The way he'll let Tony talk at him for hours, sketching on the workshop couch and playing fetch with the bots. His proposition of Pop Culture Education movie marathons used as a cover for what's really just family movie night. How he'll shove a plate under Tony's nose to remind him that food is a thing even coffee-fueled geniuses need to survive and drag Tony to bed after too many hours of coding and armor upgrades with no heed to Tony's (very loud and creative) complaints and excuses.  
  
Natasha, the grace and quiet joy with which she dances, and how she has a soft spot for Disney movies and stealing clothes from her teammates to cuddle up in when she's feeling down. The serene way in which she can laugh at you without cracking a smile, and the way her eyes crinkle when she does smile. Her intense dedication to training Tony so he can better protect himself outside of the suit, and the casual intimacy of her running her fingers through Tony's hair when he's stressed. The way she just _knows_ when Tony can't sleep and will curl up next to him, silent comfort with the warm press of her body against his.  
  
Clint, all sarcasm with a sniper's precision but who still finds an innocent joy in simple pleasures, and will squabble good-naturedly over video games and prank wars with whoever else is willing to engage with him in what is inevitably a losing battle. His readiness to help Tony beef up security by scouting out the blind spots in the ventilation systems and every other high, cramped vantage point in the Tower when Tony is feeling extra paranoid. His easy affection given in hugs, and back rubs, and sinfully delicious baked goods. Clint listening with steady eyes, steady hands, and steady assurances when the worst of Tony's anxieties boiled over just a week ago, telling him, "We've got you, Tones."  
  
Agent Agent using paperwork and protocols to corral wayward superheroes, and wielding bureaucracy as a higher form of war when SHIELD oversteps their bounds with the team. The way he's mastered bland smiles and deadpan humor and makes the best Goddamn coffee Tony's ever had. That Phil loves cheesy romance novels and bad TV, and made sport of taking awkward candids of the team and posting them on Instagram because _the man is a fucking troll, how had Tony not known this?_ How he takes the time to have serious one-sided conversations with the bots every time he comes down to the workshop and is always, _always_ amazed by Tony's tech.  
  
Bruce. Oh, Bruce. Tony's science brother from another mother. The first real friend that Tony's ever had that understands the way his mind works, that's on the same level as Tony. Careful smiles and herbal tea, sharp wit and cutting sarcasm that most people don't even pick up on, don't realize they're being condescended to with a smile (which is a fucking gift, no matter what Bruce thinks). Bruce who is patient, who is kind, who is honest when Tony needs it and accepting when Tony screws up. Who told Tony without pause that he can and will let the Hulk smash anyone stupid enough to terrorize him, that, "It's one of the few things we both agree on."  
  
The way that Thor is often at odds with himself, big and brash, loud and uninhibited, but gentle and sweet. Joyful, interested in learning as much as he can of Midgard, and quick to praise anything he deems "wonderous." Thor who is loyal to a fault loves strongly and rankles at slights and intimidation. Thor who is incredibly smart and intuitive, and often lets people forget it. Who is steady and quiet when he is needed, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to bend, all given with a singular intensity and nothing asked in return. Thor, who offered the cloak of his protection to Tony without a second of hesitation.  
  
It frightens Tony how much he loves these people, how much they mean to him because the prospect of the rug getting pulled out from under him the way it always does has the potential to _ruin_ him. Never had he dreamed he'd have a family.

Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy are the outliers, standing by Tony through decades of bad decisions and, well, Tony being Tony. But this, sharing his living space, and meals, game nights and movie nights, battles and training, Tony's had to wonder if this was how it was supposed to feel when he was a kid. And no one, outside of Rhodey's mama bear tendencies and Pepper's vindictive streak, has ever made a gesture as grand as the team's vigilant protection. And all Tony can dwell on as the days stretch on is how long this can go on before they get sick of this, of him and the burden he has become.

Tony can't stop counting the days until he drives them away.  
  
Tony blew out his breath in a slow exhale, trying to center himself the way Bruce taught him and shut down all of the dangerous "what-ifs" cropping up in his brain that are neither helpful nor worth dwelling on. Taking JARVIS' heavy silence as a win for this round of _Who Has the Bigger Guilt Trip_ he returned his focus to the task at hand.  
  
Peeling back the towel again to consider the lacerations Tony decided butterfly bandages should suffice in lieu of stitches since the bleeding had mostly stopped. Tony pulled out the box of assorted bandages and a thick wad of gauze and rummaged in the first aid kit for the bottle of antiseptic.  
  
"Goddamn it, where – ha!" Tony's fingers closed around the bottle and pulled it from the kit only to fumble it in surprise at the sudden presence of someone behind him and a firm, cool hand pressing against his wounded side. The bottle of antiseptic tumbled to the floor with a clatter and Tony froze, his heart tripping over itself in shock.  
      
"While I detest agreeing with the _Captain_ on any matter of importance, your habit of hiding injuries is not one I enjoy," said a low, displeased voice in Tony's ear.  
  
An unnatural heat Tony was sorry to say he recognized as magic spread from the hand on his waist and jolted Tony back into movement. The contents of the first aid kit scattered across the countertop when Tony knocked the offending hand away and jerked free of Loki's hold. Tony tripped over the antiseptic bottle and an instant cold pack in his haste but caught himself on the countertop before stumbling away from the stern, frowning face of his extraterrestrial stalker.  
  
_That wasn't even five minutes, was it?_

 

 

_To be continued._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be completely honest here: I have no idea what this is. The first iteration of this in my head was super dark and twisty, but it mutated somewhere down the line when I actually started writing it down and couldn't stop with the stupid banter. This isn't even one of my die-hard ships yet this is the first thing I've really sat down to write in years because my head just couldn't let it go. I've got some bare bones for the rest of this but nothing complete. I had fun fleshing out the first couple parts and figured I'd post it to see if anyone thinks it's worth finishing the rest. So what say you?
> 
> Concrit is welcomed, and I'm my own beta so if I fucked something up point it out to me and I'll fix it. If there's something I haven't tagged that you feel should be I'll add it, and as (if?) we get further into the meat of this I'll try to warn for specifics at the beginning of each chapter. Tags will update with new chapters as well.
> 
> Also, a tip of the hat to scifigrl47's collection of works affectionately known as the Toasterverse (I made a loose reference in the aforementioned dumb banter). If you haven't read her stuff you must do so immediately. Seriously, it's what got me hooked on the Avenger's fandom.
> 
> And before I forget, the main title and chapter titles are all taken from the song _Autoclave_ by The Mountain Goats.


	2. Head for the Exits, the Sooner the Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Loki doesn't understand personal space and Tony really hates magic._   
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags have updated. Check them if you have triggers and heed the warnings below.  
>   
>  **Warnings for:** Possessive and controlling behavior, abusive behavior, non-consensual kissing and touching and panic attacks (sort of). If you wish to skip the inappropriate touching click the asterisk [*] after the line "no, no no no no no, Loki did not just say –" to skip it.  
>   
>  **EDITED 11-27-17:** I realized that the first scene of this chapter was somehow missing. I think it got lost in a copy/paste fuck-up, so this isn't exactly it but it's close.  
>   
>  **EDITED 1-9-18:** I've decided to italicize the scenes recounting past events. This seems like the easiest way to cut down on the confusion with the timeline. Furthermore the page breaks are an even back and forth between the present and the past events/exposition.  
> 

 

 

 

As like most of Tony's problems, the beginning was innocuous.

Loki's interest in him.

-:-

_Just weeks after Thor had informed SHIELD that Loki had slipped his collar and escaped his imprisonment on Asgard Tony walked into his living room to find Loki lounging on the sofa wearing a tailored black suit and a wide, cocky grin that reminded Tony a bit too much of his own press smile, citing, "I'd rather like that drink now."_

_Tony just stared. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"_

_"Yes."_

_"I'm not."_

_Loki's smile lost its hard plastic edges and quirked into something more natural, his eyes gleaming in the fading evening light. "I'd hoped you wouldn't be."_

-:-

"JARVIS – "

"Mute," Loki said, mimicking Tony's voice with a small sharp grin devoid of mirth.

Tony snarled at Loki's audacity even as he backed out of the kitchen as fast as his wobbly knees and burning ribs allowed. "No. No, no, Goddamn it, get the _fuck_ out of my tower you creepy bastard! How many times do we have to do this before you take the fucking hint and leave me alone?"

All of the soft lines on Loki's face hardened, his nostrils flaring as he observed Tony's sad attempts at flight. He was in his Asgardian getup today, Tony's unhelpful brain noted.

 _Hunting gear_.

Loki stared Tony down as he stalked after him, determined and grim. "As many times as it takes for you to understand that you are _mine_ , Dearheart," Loki growled. "I would admire your stubbornness if I did not find it so frustrating."

"Yeah? Right back at 'cha, pal," Tony snapped, tripping over the edge of the carpet and clipping an end table with his hip. He managed to right himself before falling on his ass but lost some of the distance he'd won and broke a lamp Tony was pretty sure Pepper had bought.

 _How is this my life?_ Tony asked himself, the edges of hysteria threatening to bubble over in laughter, or tears, or possibly just good old-fashioned screaming. At this point, he didn't know which option would be the least humiliating, but none were good or particularly useful with Loki prowling towards him.

Tony hated this. The anxiety, the dread, the helplessness. Hated Loki. Tony's entire life had gone to shit in a matter of weeks.

-:-

Loki wasn't completely idle in the weeks after he escaped from Asgard, and he had Fury's panties in a twist long before he decided to darken Tony's doorstep.

A single snapshot of Loki standing on a New York street corner taken by someone's Starkphone spawned a paparazzi version of  _Where's Waldo,_ until _#Where'sLoki_ trended for months on social media, tagged to every variety of photo and video of the demigod standing around in a mix of Asgardian and Midgardian dress looking bored and brooding and doing nothing of importance than anyone could have asked for.

There were immediate calls for Loki's head, for deportation (good luck with that), for explanations, and for selfies (respectively, depending what end of the internet you were wading in). Blogs devoted to deconstructing the evil meaning behind a snap of Loki scowling at the pigeons in Central Park and smirking at a pedestrian who spilled coffee down their shirt cropped up like weeds.

Leagues of misguided morons pledged themselves to Loki's service on websites that popped up faster than they could be shut down by The Powers That Be, and women who cried devotion, "Totally willing to overlook the whole world-domination thingy, it's cool," took to hanging around Loki's biggest haunts which unfortunately happened to be Avengers Tower and Stark Industries.

Loki obviously took joy in trolling the media and the public even if he didn't quite understand how it all worked. Just the fact that he didn't bother concealing himself spoke to his general attitude of not-giving-a-shit which Tony totally respected. But aside from the occasional pilfering of street corner hot dogs and the shoving of strangers off the sidewalk Loki didn't _do_ anything. He loitered; at cafes and outside office buildings; out on the street and in the park; outside Avengers Tower and Stark Industries. He stood and he watched. Loki didn't directly engage anyone unless forced to, be they paparazzi, NYPD, or rabid fangirls. He let his picture be taken and then he vanished.

Much later, JARVIS correlated the timing and location of Loki's appearances with Tony's schedule and clued everyone in far too late to the fact that Loki had been tracking Tony throughout the weeks, long before they had their (awkward) ill-fated drink.

Hindsight, and all that jazz.

Media shenanigans and creeping around in Tony's shadow notwithstanding Loki waited until the next Avengers call-out before deigning to show himself directly and engage with SHIELD and the team. Even then he appeared without fanfare and hovered about the edges of the confrontation, if you could call it that, _Jesus,_ but Tony has had his fill of terrible villains with terrible names and even worse tech – yeah, good job shooting yourself in the foot with your alchemy gun _Chemistro._

Loki merely observed, haughty and aloof, swatting away Clint's pot-shot arrows and turning a deaf ear to Thor's increasingly loud entreaties to speak with him (which forget magic, ignoring Thor is a fucking superpower) and neither helped nor hindered (unless driving Thor to loud, distressed distraction is a hindrance, which . . . okay yeah, to a lot of people it is).

After, as the idiot-of-the-week was dragged into the back of a SHIELD van by his lead foot (fucking amateur hour), Loki pinned Tony with a loaded, lingering look and vanished, much to the God of Thunderclouds' dismay. Tony could feel Natasha's eyes burning holes in the back of his helmet because of-fucking-course she clocked Loki staring too long, but at the time it hadn't felt prudent to mention that Loki had dropped by and infringed on Tony's misguided hospitality.

Because hindsight, _that bitch._

It became a habit; Loki dropping in on Avengers calls as the world's most unnecessary commentator, growing bolder over time with issuing catcalls and smart-ass quips (and on one memorable occasion conjured an obnoxious scoreboard). He'd throw a curve-ball every now and then if the proceedings were too boring for his tastes; turning Thor into a frog had felt uninspired but Tony was never, ever going to unsee Captain Spangles running through the Bronx in women's lingerie and stilettos, and to date that was still the gem of Coulson's Instagram. It became a habit too that without fail, no matter the circumstances, Loki would seek Tony out and poke at his tech and banter with him about the villain of the week like they were judges on a competition show.

And Loki did the staring thing. The staring thing only intensified.

_"Okay seriously, I think I'm missing something here, which – I know, shocking – but you broke out of the Asgardian equivalent of Azkaban, right?" Tony dropped onto the roof of the office building Loki was perched on and popped the suit's faceplate up to frown at him. "Don't you have anything better to do with your time than micromanaging our performance and kicking the team puppy?" Tony nodded his head in Thor's direction._

_Loki quirked a brow at the reference he didn't understand and side-eyed Thor hovering above the next building_ _over looking sad and dejected. He smirked. "That is . . . a fitting comparison."_

 _"Yeah, and you, as always, weasel around actually answering questions. I mean . . . even if you're off the whole 'enslaving humanity' bit I can't imagine watching us apprehend Stilt Man is the highlight of what Midgard has to offer._ Because wearing stilts isn't a fucking superpower!" _Tony shouted the last down to the street level where Stilt Man had been knocked ass over teakettle into a dumpster._

_When he looked back he caught Loki doing the staring thing again, wry and fond._

What the fuck is that about?

_Tony frowned and swallowed thickly, the air suddenly thin and too warm. Uncomfortable. Before Tony could unstick his jaw to ask another question Loki gave a sarcastic bow that doubled as an evasive maneuver to dodge one of Tasha's throwing knives and took his leave, poofing himself wherever crazed demigods went in their downtime._

And so it went.

 _#Where'sLoki_ cropped up more and more on the Avengers social media feed every time he crashed a call-out or was spotted outside the Tower or Stark Industries (many times at the top of a nearby building, or once, floating in the air), and theories spread and mutated as to just what Loki was playing at.

For the most part Tony didn't care past getting grilled by Fury every time he and Loki so much as said "hello" (namely because Loki hadn't actually spoken to anyone else) and the fact he had to keep replacing and upgrading the Tower's appliances and electronics because Thor was so wrong-footed over his brother hanging around and refusing to speak with him he kept frying everything he put his hands on.

And it was worrying, sure, wondering what Loki was up to; whether Loki wanted revenge, or to get back the Glow Stick of Destiny, or (most likely) fuck with the Avengers for shits and giggles because that's just something Loki enjoys. Tony did his best to do what he always does with awkward problems he can't science away and ignore the squirm of unease in his gut . . . that and the way his skin prickled with discomfort when Loki stared at him longer than was socially appropriate.

It worked well, the first couple of weeks, until Loki started doing things Tony couldn't ignore.

-:-

Tony stumbled again, this time over his own feet as black spots grew in the corners of his vision, the raw wheeze of his breathing both too much and not enough as every short, rough draw of air chased fire across his ribs.

He was panicking, which was both humiliating and the absolute worst thing for his body to be doing right now. Tony braced himself against the back of the sofa and clung for a dizzying moment, long enough to regain his equilibrium and for Loki to get within three feet of him, his expression more alarmed now than disapproving.

Loki reached for Tony, the fingers of his right hand already suffused in the warm glow of healing magic, and Tony lashed out, knocking Loki's hand away and dragging himself along the back of the sofa – white, why the fuck did Pepper buy Tony white furniture – leaving a horrible trail of bloody hand-prints in his wake that he'd _never_ be able to cover up or explain away.

 _"Anthony!_ " Loki admonished, as though Tony were a recalcitrant child.

"Don't fucking touch me!"

A flicker of chastened consternation was there and gone again on Loki's face before he set his shoulders. Loki's eyes burned even as his face fell stony. "If you insist on behaving like a foolhardy halfwit you will submit to my care – "

"You are not my keeper," Tony growled, tripping backward to keep a radius of space between them. "It's none of your Goddamn business what I do or how I do it, and if I wanted your fucking _care_ I would have asked!"

-:-

On a warm, sunny Thursday afternoon, a lucky hit from an overgrown eyesore of a Doombot brought half a block of Midtown office buildings down on Iron Man and Loki stopped spectating.

Rather, _Loki lost his shit._

The shift was breathtaking in fervor and focus, Loki's heckling and self-satisfied smiles swapped for a murderous rage that gave even the Hulk pause. Loki decimated the squadron of Doombots in a storm of green flames and dark energy – the immobile remains of which (melted into the hunched, waxen facsimiles of bipedal creatures) had been pretty fucking terrifying – and then proceeded to free Tony from beneath the wreckage with a combination of magic and brute strength that Tony was glad to say he hadn't seen first hand, what with being buried and concussed.

The video footage he'd seen after the fact was haunting enough.

Tony's memory afterwards was spotty but the whispered sensation of cold fingers ghosting across his brow and a low, strained voice murmuring heatedly in his ear, _"You are too reckless, and I cannot – I_ will not _allow you treat yourself as though you are expendable – "_ felt too real to be a hallucination.

_Tony's awareness clung to the voice and followed it out of the haze of semi-consciousness and a massive beast of a headache. He had the capacity to worry for a moment about the city bus he'd rammed out of the wake of destruction before he remembered Cap's tight assurance the civilians were fine as Tony was being loaded into the medevac van. Also, what?_

That's not – _"S'not what . . . 'M fine,"_

_The voice had growled, "You are most certainly not – " before vanishing abruptly in a wash of displaced air when Bruce stepped inside the recovery room clutching a clipboard and a sheaf of x-rays. In the awkward beat of silence that followed Tony heard the groan of the clipboard in Bruce's hands as they tightened into white-knuckled fists._

_Tony didn't ask outright what Bruce may or may not have just seen, but Tony was certain he hadn't fantasized the Loki by his bedside if the pinched, perturbed expression on Bruce's face was anything to go by._

Thereafter Tony had a tall dark and brooding shadow. Loki interfered with Avengers business on Tony's behalf and provided unnecessary assists in battle. He stood at the edges of crowds when Tony was in public, and let himself into Tony's living spaces for awkward, stilted conversation and uncomfortable staring contests when Tony was alone.

Loki watched Tony, followed Tony, and didn't bother with subtlety.

-:-

"If I've learned anything in my time with you, Anthony, it is that you will not ask for help you feel you should not need regardless of whether or not you desire it," Loki said, the words bitten off and hard, "so forgive me for not troubling to seek your approval to care for what is mine in the manner I see fit."

Loki stepped forward and Tony pulled himself around the side of the couch, his breathing easing the slightest bit with something physical between them. "There are so many things wrong with that statement I don't even know where to begin – "

"You are being ridiculous."

Tony laughed, high and a little hysterical. "Oh, right, you drop in unannounced – _uninvited_ – and use your mojo on me without even bothering to ask permission, you spy on me and follow me around, you corner me when I'm alone, you talk about me like I _belong to you_ , like I'm a thing or some kind of trophy and _I'm_ the ridiculous one?"

Loki halted where he stood and pulled himself up to his full height, and why, why is he so fucking tall _, damn it,_ and held Tony's eyes with a challenging glare.

_"You do belong to me."_

-:-

That wherever Tony went Loki would soon follow did not go unnoticed.

The team made excuses to spend more time with Tony; Mario Kart tournaments with Clint and experiments in Bruce's lab, sightseeing with Steve and Thor, sparring with Natasha and extended lunches with Pepper, working on Agent's car – the bastard, there's no way Tony could pass up the chance to get his hands on Lola.

_Suck it, Howard, I'll show you a flying car._

At every fundraiser and gala, Tony had no less than two deadly attractive (and just plain deadly) companions on his arm, and usually a third playing Secret Agent Man in the crowd. Even the bots stuck closer when Tony was in the workshop.

There were a number of times Loki came and went without alerting anyone, evidenced by furniture and items moving about the tower, the booby-traps set in the ventilation systems (Tony's still finding glitter everywhere every time Clint comes and goes, who the fuck showed the _God of Mischief_ a craft store, seriously), the morning Steve woke up with his hair dyed bright blue, the shrinking of all of Thor's clothing which led to three really, really awkward days until Natasha stole some of Steve's sweats and drug Thor out shopping with Tony's black credit card, and the periodic alien trinket or mineral sample Tony would find on his bedside table or beside the coffee pot.

And if Tony secretly adores the miniature clockwork dragon that flies around and spits sparks in people's faces it's nobody's business. He still doesn't know how the damn thing works.

The internet exploded with more conspiracy theories, ranging from adamant claims that Loki was trying to turn Tony over to the dark side (and worse ones citing that Loki already had), to diehard delusional fangirls calling it 'true love.' To Tony's everlasting dismay, _FrostIron_ overwhelmed social media to the point that talk show hosts requested interviews for his side of the story. Tony may not have taken the speculation of a fake gay relationship he wanted no part of so poorly if not for the fact that the fangirls had come closest to the truth, which simply is just not fair.

The very idea of Loki pursuing Tony for anything other than a fight or a barbed conversation was so bizarre and laughable that Tony initially convinced himself that the whole thing was an elaborate prank – which wasn't off base with Thor's multitude of anecdotes. But as altercations escalated from playground antics and Loki appeared in Tony's bedroom and sent another poor girl screaming (for the third fucking time) Tony'd had to rethink the whole situation.

_"What the fuck is your problem?" Tony said, throwing his hands in the air and glowering at the asshole lounging on Tony's bed as if he belonged in it. An armed-to-the-teeth asshole at that. Had Loki even had that many weapons during the Chitauri battle?_

_Loki made a moue and inspected the nails of his left hand that he'd been cleaning with a knife just moments before. "Whatever do you mean?"_

_Tony gestured wildly at the open doorway through which Angie – wait, no, Annie, or was it Amy? – had just fled. "I_ mean _you terrorizing every half-decent woman I've met lately and wanted to 'get to know better' you cock-blocking jerk. I don't know what you think you're doing, but seeing as how you want us to be besties let me give you some advice: that's the opposite of what a wingman is supposed to do!"_

_Loki's eyes that had been anywhere but Tony's face snapped to meet his gaze, sharp and furious and enough to dampen Tony's indignity with a flicker of unease. Loki stood from the bed (and Tony did not take a step back, no he did not), decked out in his armor and his distaste and surveyed Tony with a hard, penetrating gaze. "That mewling quim is not fit to breathe the same air as you, let alone to lay hands upon you," he said. "This behavior is beneath you, Anthony."_

_Tony's mouth opened and closed a couple of times. "What?" If Tony hadn't known better he might have thought Loki was hurt._

_Loki's fist tightened on the hilt of his knife before he took a visible calming breath and fixed himself into a posture of false ease. The play at composure was belied by the hard steel of Loki's voice. "Hear me, Anthony, for I will not repeat myself. You are not to bring any more wanton fools to your bed. I do not wish to be tested in this manner again and there will be consequences if you try my patience. Neither you nor your_ conquest _will enjoy them."_

_Loki leveled his gaze at Tony, loaded and angry and disappointed, and vanished._

"What?"

_It wasn't until Loki was gone that Tony even noticed the detailed hand-drawn diagram of the Bifrost laying on his pillow._

-:-

_You do belong to me._

The pronouncement rang in Tony's ears like the tolling of a bell. His own personal death knell.

A renewed flutter of panic beat against Tony's ribcage like the wings of a frightened bird but he tamped it down hard. He wrapped his right arm around his middle to press hard against the blood dripping from the aggravated wounds on his left side. He circled around the glass coffee table, allowing himself the brief illusion that distance equaled safety. Tony was shaking, anger and adrenaline and that pesky, pesky fear – _Can he smell fear? Of course he can't, stop that, that's garbage science_ – and pulled himself as straight as his screaming ribs would allow.

"I don't belong to anyone, least of all _you!"_

-:-

Even as Loki became more forthright in his interest Tony still tried to play it off as a joke, burying the uncomfortable frisson of nerves he felt when Loki pinned him with his eyes, intense and predatory – or worse, soft and bright and somehow fragile.

Tony's had stalkers and overzealous fans before. It's part of the deal of being a public figure, just a fact of life. He's been mailed everything from dirty underwear to explosives, has had bodyguards and filed restraining orders. Tony has JARVIS watching over his shoulder and his own ever-growing personal bag of tricks to equip himself for any emergency, any attack. Tony can and has protected himself when necessary, and fought tooth and nail even when things went pear-shaped. But never has Tony felt truly threatened by another's unwanted attention and advances until now.

This _– Loki_ – is something else entirely.

The careful dance of unasked questions and avoidance buried beneath denial and a healthy dose of witty banter was tenable, if awkward until Justin Hammer fucked everything up. Because doesn't he always. Him and his shitty revenge plots and even shittier tech.

For an incident that had ended without any casualties and a minimum of property damage, the fallout on a personal level was spectacular.

_A glass worktable sailed across the workshop and smashed into the far wall with a tremendous crash heralding Loki's arrival. He stormed across the shop towards Tony, kicking furniture and scraps out of his way, his eyes wild and manic, his face like thunder._

_"What the_ fuck – "

_"What were you thinking?" Loki snarled and backed Tony into the worktable he'd been sitting at treating his burns. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?!"_

_Tony swallowed so hard his throat clicked and he leaned back and away, the table's edge and the weave of his shirt cutting a line of fire into the overheated, sensitive skin of his back._

_Any thoughts Tony might have had about sniping right back that Loki didn't have a Goddamn say in anything Tony did died in his throat at the deranged gleam in Loki's eyes. Loki did not appear to want an answer, however, and instead wound his fingers into the thick hair at the back of Tony's head and jerked his head back at an uncomfortable angle to force Tony to look him in the eyes._

_That was new._

_Even at his most frustrated Loki had maintained a radius of distance during their encounters, in both physical space and carefully worded conversation. So it was stunning, then, experiencing Loki's unfettered rage up close and personal, his power. It stirred the fear in Tony's hindbrain, base, and animal. His traitorous body quickly decided flight over fight, but with Loki's painful grip on his hair and the rest of him caging Tony in against the worktable there was nowhere to go, so the extra burst of adrenaline only ratcheted Tony's nerves higher._

_The irony was that Tony had ditched debrief to lick his wounds in private and avoid Cap giving him the third degree about his supposed lack of self-preservation and inability to follow orders. Because this? So much worse._

_Tony's hands moved of their own accord, one gripping tight at the wrist of the hand pulling his hair out and the other shoving useless and futile against Loki's chest. Loki's grip did not ease. Tony could feel him shaking. Loki leaned in close, green eyes wild and mad, his lips pulled back in a snarl. When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous._

_"You are never to do something so foolhardy ever again. Am I understood?"_

_Tony's throat worked around words that would not come. Loki's punishing grasp and the crackle of empathetic magic in the air stole his sense, the animal in his head yelling at him to run. Unbidden, Tony's eyes flicked to the side where the pile of scorched armor lay in a heap, fried and useless._

_"_ _I didn't – "_

 _"You manually detonated an incendiary device_ on purpose." _Loki tightened his hold on Tony's hair to the point of pain and pulled his head back farther, baring Tony's throat and the rapid jump of his pulse. "Your armor had to be cut from your body by your creations because it was fused shut, you are burned_ all over – "

_Tony's eyes watered as his muscles strained in protest against the unforgiving hold, but Tony's own seething rage at hearing the same insulting critical bullshit Rogers had tried to yell at him unblocked Tony's tongue._

_"I_ had _to!" Tony shouted with as much force as he could ensnared as he was, his voice raw from stress and smoke inhalation. "There wasn't time for anything else, if I hadn't removed the bomb the whole Goddamn building would have come down, and I knew if I flew high enough the suit could withstand – "_

_An inhuman sound ripped from Loki's throat and pain blazed sudden and fierce across Tony's back and shoulders when he was hauled up and slammed flat onto the worktable. The hand that had gripped the back of Tony's head now curled instead around his throat, squeezing tight enough to make Tony gasp. He clawed at Loki's arm and tried to find some leverage with his legs, but Loki pinned him down with his weight and leaned in close until they were nose to nose. Loki's eyes were very green in the pale wash of his skin._

_"Allow me to make myself very clear, Anthony, as I have done a poor job of it thus far," Loki said, quiet and deceptively calm, belied by the fire in his eyes and the trembling, bruising clench of his fingers on Tony's skin. "You are not to risk your life on stupid pointless endeavors, to harm yourself with improper care or excess drink, or to bed another._ You are mine. _Mine to have, for ill or for good, and you shall not defy me with stupid acts of heroics and getting yourself blown up."_

_Tony's eyes went round and staring and his stomach twisted. He felt suddenly dizzy, as though the earth had tipped on its axis beneath him. A strange, strangled whine escaped him when Loki's grip on his throat shifted to grasp Tony's jaw and hold his head still even as he squirmed against Loki's considerable weight._

_For all of the strange late night breaking-and-entering heart to hearts they had shared, the arch, wry banter they had developed with each other whenever Loki decided to nitpick Tony's job performance as an Avenger, the heavy glances and bizarre, if thoughtful, gifts left around Tony's home, Loki had never outright expressed his motivations for haunting Tony like a moody ghost._

_Thor had given it a name_ – courting – _which, no. Just no,_ shut the fuck up, Barton, it's just some fucked up joke.

_But the set of Loki's jaw and the passionate, covetous blaze in his eyes gave light to that which the two of them had been dancing around from the very start._

_Tony's breaths were coming short and fast, his head swimming as his brain tripped over Loki's words, searching for the deceit, the joke he was missing out on because no, no no no no no, Loki did not just say –_ [*]

 _Loki crushed his mouth against Tony's with bruising force, demanding and frenzied. The kiss was possession and sharp edges, teeth and tongue and the rough grip of Loki's hand at the hinge of Tony's jaw. Loki's other hand raked down Tony's ribs and the curve of his spine to grasp greedily at the meat of his ass, his thigh, and Loki licked his way into Tony's mouth when he gasped in surprise at the proprietary touch. Tony's hands grappled against and clawed at Loki, pulled at long, dark hair and shoved against Loki's shoulders and throat to no effect. Loki was solid and heavy, immovable and too much. Tony's pulse thundered loud and fast in his ears. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't_ breathe.

_Tony's hands scrabbled over the work table beneath him, blindly searching for something, anything he could use as a weapon, sending reports and bits of wires and circuit boards skittering across the surface before his fingers encountered something solid. The fingers of Tony's right hand closed around the object – a tool, metal and heavy – at the same moment Loki snugged one of his thighs up between Tony's._

_Tony cried out at the sudden pressure on his groin and nearly lost his grip on his found object. Loki growled low in satisfaction and delved further into Tony's mouth with a wicked tongue, his hands possessive and too rough as they sought beneath the hem of Tony's t-shirt and dipped just inside the waistband of his jeans. Tony's breath stuttered in his chest when Loki's thigh rocked against him, bringing with it pain and a shade of pleasure Tony did not want. Cold fingers skimmed over Tony's ribs and the ridge of his hip, and before Tony could tabulate the reasons it was a Bad Idea he swung the tool in his hand at Loki's head._

_A sharp, wet_ crack _echoed in the workshop, Loki's head jerking back with a bark of pain. Tony used the moment of distraction to tear free of Loki's hold and roll sideways off the table, the wrench he'd bludgeoned Loki with clattering to the ground with a clang. Tony landed badly, catching his right side on the fried remains of the Mark 12. Starbursts of pain bloomed where the jagged edges cut into Tony's skin and stalled him for a moment before he lurched to his feet and stumbled towards the exit._

_"JARVIS – " Tony yelled, realizing for the first time that the neither the AI nor the bots had said or done anything since Loki's arrival and fear of a different sort rooted in his chest._

_Loki was exceedingly good at hiding himself from JARVIS' sensors and had on occasion cloaked himself well enough that playback from the security footage depicted Tony having very strange one-sided conversations with himself (which yeah, Tony had similar conversations with himself or his tech that to an outside party look completely nuts, but – not the point), but never had JARVIS or any of the other AIs and systems been damaged._

He wouldn't have, he knows how much I –

_A hand gripped the back of Tony's neck and wrenched him back, scruffing him with an unforgiving hold that had Tony shouting in pain._

_"Don't worry, Pet," Loki said, harsh and agitated. Tony could feel the tremors in Loki's hands and the unsteady rise and fall of his chest against his back. "I've not harmed your creations, but they shall sleep for quite some time." Loki's other arm wrapped around Tony's waist and Tony shuddered at the exhalation of Loki's breath in his ear when he pulled Tony's back flush against him from shoulders to knees, all hard unforgiving muscle and barely restrained power, and a hot,_ _hard line digging into the small of Tony's back that Tony_  really _didn't want to analyze._

_Teeth nipped at the sensitive skin behind Tony's ear, a shade too rough. "If you think me easily dissuaded by your theatrics you are sorely mistaken, Anthony. Your spirit is part of your charm . . . and I've always rather enjoyed the hunt." Loki's grip tightened to the point of pain for a beat, and then he was gone._

_Tony swayed where he stood, numb and trembling, alone for but a minute before Steve slammed open the workshop door and stormed inside._

_He was still wearing his uniform, covered in dust and ash, a bloody streak smeared across his forehead. "Stark! What the hell do you think you're playing at – "_

_Steve's voice faltered and trailed off as he registered the overturned tables and scattered projects. The angry lines of his face slipped into confusion and then concern when his eyes finally landed on Tony wavering on his feet in the middle of the destruction._

_"Tony?" Broken glass crunched and popped beneath Steve's boots as he hastened through the fallout of Loki's tantrum, stumbling in a way he usually only did at his most exhausted. He stalled to a stop in front of Tony and assessed him with wide eyes. Steve reached out, his hands hovering in hesitation before gripping Tony's shoulders with careful hands to forestall his swaying._

_"Tony? Are you – what . . . happened?" Steve's gaze fell on Tony's throat and the finger-shaped bruises that were already forming and flicked his eyes from Tony's bruised and swollen lips to his wild hair and red eyes, his rumpled clothing hanging at indecent angles, the bloody wrench on the floor and the mess of glass and parts and smoking green scorch marks at the back of the workshop. The part of Tony's brain that was still paying attention could see the gears turning in Steve's head, saw the way Steve's eyes widened as he put the pieces together. A soft, wounded sound punched out of Steve's throat as if he'd been struck. His hands tightened on Tony's shoulders._

_Tony was frozen, stalled out, his higher brain functions waiting to come back online. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. He just stood there, trembling and useless. It should have been humiliating, acting so pathetic and traumatized (in front of Goddamned Captain America no less), but as ninety-nine percent of his brain had checked out for the time being Tony couldn't bring himself to care._

_"Tony, please talk to me. What do you need me to do?" Steve asked, his voice going reedy and thin. "Tony?_ Tony? _I can't . . . JARVIS?" Steve looked up in question, despite having been told many times that JARVIS isn't in the ceiling. Steve frowned when there was no response, and for no reason whatsoever Tony started laughing._

_Anxious, hysterical laughter that had him doubled over and gasping, folding to his knees on the gritty floor. Tony was peripherally aware of Steve's voice rising in panic, of hands on his shoulders and his chest when he started wheezing for breath in earnest and a flurry of movement and other bodies in the room before Tony lost track of everything and passed out._

_After, Tony awoke in his bedroom surrounded by Avengers perched on every available surface._

_It was domestic, if not a little bizarre, to see everyone making themselves comfortable in Tony's living space, and had the circumstances been different he may have allowed himself to be fooled by the affected casualty of the tableau. But as he always did Tony saw too much to hope for such willful ignorance._

_The tick in Steve's jaw as he sketched in an armchair. The tinge of green in Bruce's complexion even as he cleaned and bandaged the burns and jagged cuts on Tony's skin with steadfast fingers. The thin white line of Natasha's mouth as she sharpened her knives crosslegged on the comforter next to Tony. The sharp, harsh punctuation of Phil's pen as he wrote reports, and the tense line of Clint's shoulders where he sat on the desk in Agent's way. And God, Thor. Leaning against the dresser and staring out the windows with a thousand yard stare._

_No one spoke or asked awkward questions, and although the air was thick with tension the part of Tony that had been on high alert relaxed, the residual fear roosting in Tony's chest soothed away by the presence of the team. Shame and anger would come later, but in those first few moments, Tony tricked himself into believing everything was going to be okay._

Tony never talked about what had happened and no one pushed him on it. But they knew. How could they not? None of the Avengers were slouches in the brains department, and half of them were professional spies, for fucks sake, so there was more than enough circumstantial evidence for them to connect the dots, those both recent as well as all of the red flags from the weeks prior that hadn't seemed important out of context.

_Fucking hindsight._

He should have seen it coming when the team decided Tony needed a security detail at all times until a better solution could be found. If there was ever a formal discussion of the matter of the rotating babysitting schedule Tony was not privy to it, and nothing he said convinced the team that the gesture, while appreciated, was not necessary.

God, Tony hated being wrong.

Loki was everywhere after the incident in the workshop. He interrupted business meetings and lunch dates with Pepper. Materialized in Tony's cars during rush hour traffic and in Tony's bedroom while he slept.

It took a lot these days to frighten Tony. Between alien invasions and monsters both fantastic and homegrown, terrorism and HYDRA and everything else that was now just your average Tuesday, Tony had had to get comfortable with the new "normal." So it rankled him to play into Loki's acts of intimidation. But for all of the unwanted advances Tony's been subjected to before, Loki's manage to hit somewhere deep.

It's not even that Loki's male, although it doesn't help.

Tony doesn't do men. He can appreciate a good looking man, which, yeah, obviously Loki falls within just about everyone's definition of aesthetically pleasing, the smug asshole. And there's something to be said for strong, broad shoulders and firm chests and narrow hips and – okay, so maybe Tony could _consider_ a man under the right circumstances, but he hasn't ever done that (unless you count some early experimentation at boarding school and a drunk makeout session with that asshat Tiberius at MIT – and thank fuck for Rhodey's overprotective hovering putting a stop to the proceedings before the clothes came off, _Jesus Christ)_ and doesn't especially want to, and certainly not with the God of Stalking and Inappropriate Touching.

Point being, that while Tony isn't generally comfortable when men make passes at him Loki is far from the first to do it because come on, he's _Tony Fucking Stark._ Who wouldn't hit on him? Everyone wants something from Tony. Especially when they say they don't.

And because this is Tony's life and he does shit like fight against alien armies, some douchebag calling himself Doctor Doom, and gigantic mutant cephalopods with a band of superheroes on a regular basis, Loki trying to cozy up to Tony for some interplanetary objectifying hate sex isn't entirely new or outside the realm of possibilities.

The issue, really, is that Loki is Loki.

Contrary to popular belief Tony isn't so insecure as to not know how to admit it when he knows he's outclassed, and Loki – fucking God of Mischief and Lies, _magic-wielding Loki_  – can snap Tony in two without breaking a sweat and everyone knows it.

But what truly sets Tony's heart rabbiting, has him hot and cold, shaky and wanting to hide, is that no matter what is said or done, no matter how many times Loki appears to fuck with Tony's head and takes his leave when Tony's guard dogs start barking  –  everything is done on Loki's terms. The illusion of control Tony still has over his life, hell, his own person, frays a little more each time Loki humors him and backs off.

He always comes back, less patient, singing the same old song.

_"You are mine, and I shall have you, Anthony."_

Loki, an immovable object.

Loki, an inevitability.

Tony still can't help but wonder from time to time if it's not some extensive fucked up game Loki is playing for shits and giggles. Going for the long-con. He doesn't doubt for a second that Loki wants him. Liesmith or not, Tony believes it down to his bones that this farce of a courtship is genuine in that Loki is playing for keeps. But the whole cat-and-mouse thing has Tony on edge.

 _More_ on edge.

Because when it comes down to logistics there's no reason for Natasha playing Natalie Rushman at Stark Industries or Steve escorting Tony around town to deter Loki from _having_ Tony. The only people Tony can really see giving Loki a run for his money are Bruce and Thor, but even then only for a moment, until the next gambit.

Moreover, besides a victory fuck and bragging rights, Tony just doesn't understand what Loki gets out of this after everything is said and done.

-:-

Silence followed Tony's pronouncement, measured by twelve beats of Tony's pounding heart. Loki cocked his head, his eyes flickering with some sort of inner turmoil before he appeared to come to a decision and nodded once, a sharp jerk of his chin as he set his jaw in a manner that eerily reminded Tony of Steve at his most stubborn.

"No, I suppose you do not yet, not truly," Loki said, soft and cold as he pinned Tony with his gaze, "But you will."

-:-

_"It is not so strange to me this . . . interest my brother has in you," Thor said. The lines on his face were more pronounced than Tony had ever remembered seeing them as Thor settled heavily at the foot of the bed, hunched over with his forearms braced on his knees and his hands hanging lax between his thighs. Mjolnir rested on the floor by Thor's bare feet._

_Tony shivered, sat next to Thor wrapped in a blanket and shaking from a combination of the cold wind blowing in from the broken windows and the adrenaline of waking to a demigod grudge match in his bedroom at three in the morning. Tony fought to chase away the phantom feeling of fingers stroking his hair and tracing across his brow and the line of his jaw. A cold thumb lingering on his bottom lip._

Nope nope nope, not thinking about that.

_Tony swallowed hard and shivered again. He pulled the blanket tighter about his shoulders (because he was fucking cold, okay?) and his brain unhelpfully tried to supply a lovely batch of "what-ifs" speculating what might have happened if Thor hadn't been sleeping in the next room over when Loki showed up._

Nope!

 _And oh, Jesus, what if this wasn't the first time Loki had done this, shown up when Tony was asleep and felt him up._ Somnophelia's a thing right?

Goddamnit, stop!

_Tony took a deep breath and tried to focus on what Thor had said._

_"How do you mean?" he asked, wincing when his voice cracked._

_Thor was quiet long enough for Tony to wonder if he shouldn't have said anything at all before Thor took a bracing breath and sat upright to meet Tony's eyes._

_"In many ways you and Loki are alike," Thor said, holding up a hand to waylay Tony's immediate protest. Thor's grave, pensive expression, the weariness and pain in his eyes, had Tony holding his tongue._

_"You remind me of Loki, at times. With your sharp tongue and your intelligence. Your resourcefulness and determination. Your stubbornness." Thor grinned but it quickly fell. "You are bold and unapologetic. You wear a multitude of masks with frightful ease, to which almost no one is the wiser._

_"And apart from everything the two of you share in disposition and intelligence, Friend Tony, you have many qualities that Loki values. You say and do things that are the opposite of what is expected, among both friends and enemies,"_

_"He told you about the drink, really?"_

_The corners of Thor's mouth twitched, but he otherwise ignored Tony's interruption._

_"You are daring, and constantly questioning the limitations set by others as well as your own, and I believe Loki sees this, that you can challenge him in ways that he has not been challenged on Asgard for quite some time. And that you are the first to make a fool of Loki in both wit and battle in centuries is no small act." Thor's eyes brightened a bit at this and he regarded Tony with something that looked like pride, and Tony had no idea what to do with that, what he was supposed to say._

_Tony ducked his head, unsure whether he was embarrassed at Thor's misguided perception of his character or guilty for being the cause of more strife between Thor and his family. Really, it was both. No matter which way Tony looked at it this mess was his fault, intentional or not. Whatever Loki is and has done Thor loves his brother, and although it was never a popular topic of conversation everyone in the Tower knows how much Thor wants to mend his relationship with Loki. And now Thor was even more at odds, putting himself between Loki and Tony out of obligation –_

_A heavy hand settled on Tony's shoulder and brought Tony back out of the mental shame spiral he'd fallen into. Thor was quiet, waiting, already too familiar with the way Tony would fall into himself during conversations about feelings and emotions and interpersonal relationships and all those things Tony is so bad at, which – Goddamn it, Tony doesn't deserve these people, any of them._

_When Tony was able to meet his gaze again Thor's eyes were kind and understanding as if he knew exactly what Tony had been thinking._

_"You may not think it as such, but Loki's desire to claim you is a testament to the quality of your character and standing. He has found you worthy, Tony Stark, a mortal self-made of your own ingenuity who forges the future with his hands, who offers his enemies hospitality and knows not when to hold his tongue,"_

_"Hey – "_

_"Who is kind and generous and plays at being an arrogant ass to those who will believe it, but hides from praise and thanks where it is deserved. Who does not believe himself worthy of affection or friendship, or that it can be given to him freely."_

_Tony froze, wide brown eyes locked with Thor's sad, dim blue. He swallowed hard around the sudden lump in his throat and felt himself flushing with embarrassment or shame, he didn't even know anymore. Thor smiled at him, somber and worn, and Tony was reminded of just how old Thor is, of all of the lives he's lived before this current stint on Midgard._

_"I understand Loki's interest in you, Friend Tony," Thor said, finally looking away. "He sees in you himself, that which he feels in undervalued and overlooked, that which should be cherished and is often not. He has decided to take you for his own, and I am afraid that once Loki has made up his mind it is difficult to persuade him otherwise."_

_It took Tony almost a full minute to find his voice again and respond to the only part of what Thor had just said that he even wanted to pretend to acknowledge._

_"So what am I supposed to do? I can't have an Avenger chaperoning me everywhere all the time or five different armors in reserve whenever I'm alone." He scrubbed at his face, exhausted and so_ done _with the whole damn thing._

_Fleetingly, Tony thought again of soft, reverent touches trailing over the dips and curves of his face and neck in the twilight between sleep and waking, before Thor had crashed into Tony's bedroom and piled more property damage on to the Tower's expense report – the most expensive wake-up call Tony's had in years._

Nope.

_"Fuck it, I should just put a ribbon around my neck and offer myself up. Lie back and think of England. Wait for him to get bored and toss me out like last week's leftovers."_

_Thor's brow scrunched in the way it did every time someone made a reference he didn't understand, but if the way his hand tightened on Tony's shoulder meant anything Tony assumed he'd gotten the gist of it. "You must not say such things, my friend."_

_"Do you mean the ribbon or the leftovers?"_

_"Any of it." Thor slid his arm around Tony's shoulders and pulled him into a loose hug that Tony absolutely did not lean into. "If you desired to accept Loki's affections – "_

_Tony snorted inelegantly._ Affections, right.

_" – I would be the first to congratulate you both on a fine match."_

_"I'm sorry,_ a fine match? _Really?"_

_"I do not believe he truly intends you any harm, or to frighten you. But as skilled as Loki is with tricks and his silver tongue he has always struggled with restraining his passions when being denied that which he genuinely desires, and once in a temper he can be difficult to reason with. It is one of the few traits we share, although Loki would never admit to it. But regardless of intentions good or ill, I cannot allow Loki to force his attentions on you when they are unwanted. This," Thor gestured at the broken windows and overturned furniture, the scorch marks on the walls, "is not acceptable."_

_Tony bit at the inside of his cheek to refrain from pointing out that Thor had caused all of the physical damage defending Tony's honor._

Not helpful. _  
_

_"Loki has gone too far, and I know not how to persuade him to cease in this poorly wrought courtship. It may be time I seek council with the Allmother." Thor sounded tired but his arm about Tony's shoulders tightened, firm and grounding. "I had hoped we could settle our issues amongst ourselves but Loki's persistence has gotten out of hand and I fear matters shall only worsen if this continues. I care more for your safety than Loki's wrath. Worry not, we will figure this out."_

-:-

Tony has seen it more clearly every day, the reality of the outcome weighing more heavily the longer the game has gone on simply by virtue of being a foregone conclusion. Loki making bolder moves, toying with Tony, dragging out _the hunt_.

Tony knows how this game ends. He's known since the first time Loki put his hands on him in the workshop. Every day after, every altercation, Tony's seen that the battle is already won; it wasn't really ever a battle at all.

But even now, in spite of Rational Brain and what it's known for weeks, of cabin fever and Tony's plethora of jokes about the buddy system, Tony's starting to wish he'd fessed up about his injuries and gotten patched up on the hellicarrier. Because the set of Loki's mouth, the purpose of his stride as he prowled once more towards Tony, speaks to the coming of the end of days and Tony really, really wants to postpone this hunt's inevitable conclusion just a little bit longer – _p_ _lease, can't we?_

Stupid. Lying to the team was so fucking stupid. What did he think was going to happen, really? Loki loves turning up when Tony's at his most vulnerable.

 _Vulnerable._ And God, Tony hates that too, that feeling, the helplessness. He shouldn't need protecting. Tony doesn't need the brightest and deadliest superheroes on the planet babysitting him because he's fucking _Iron Man_ , Goddamn it.

He knows the picture he paints, exhausted and bleeding, dressed only in his undersuit and letting Loki herd him into a corner like a rabbit into a trap, as if capitulating to Loki's claim. The smug gleam growing in Loki's eyes certainly shows he thinks as much. Thinks he's won.

Tony faltered to a halt when his back hit the wall, which – great, that's just fucking perfect. Loki closed the distance between them and leaned in close, boxing Tony in with his arms and a knee between Tony's. His lips curled into a self-satisfied smile.

"Can we be civil now, Pet?" Loki asked. His eyes lingered on Tony's dry, parted lips and on the bob of his throat when he swallowed.

The familiar uncomfortable prickling crept across Tony's skin at the close proximity and Loki's creepy grin, but Tony beat back the desire to run and focused on the anger simmering beneath the surface – the rage that grew exponentially with each passing day that this arrogant, deluded bastard of a demigod derailed Tony's hard-earned life.

Tony gave Loki a smile, all sharp edges and teeth. "I'm sorry, what part of breaking and entering and trying to feel me up against my will is 'civil?'" Tony asked as he held his arms out to his sides and flexed his arms in the sharp gesture he'd perfected in the workshop just two days ago.

Loki's eyes snapped to Tony's wrists, no doubt checking for the Mark VII bracelets Tony had taken to wearing all of the time. Tony's smile turned a bit more genuine and Loki's eyes bored into Tony's, searching. "What have you done?"

"Upgrades."

 

 

_To be continued._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that happened.  
>   
> Both Chemistro and Stilt Man are canon villains in Marvel comics. There are other awful supervillains I really wanted to use because they're so stupid, but they were _too stupid_. You should be ashamed, Marvel.  
>   
>  I realized after I wrote it that the idea of FrostIron being the name for the Loki/Tony ship doesn't really make sense in this universe because no one on Earth knows Loki is a Frost Giant, or that Frost Giants are a thing, let alone girls with too much free time who like pushing representations of hot guys together on the internet and making them kiss because _reasons_. I left it in, however, because I am too lazy to think of something original that would fit contextually.  
>   
>  On a serious note, I'm concerned as to whether or not this is confusing and/or disjointed what with the jumping around time-wise (and I'm pretty sure gratuitous flashbacks are supposed to be bad writing, but, _meh_ ). And just general feedback would be super.


	3. No One in Their Right Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _In which Loki can't take a hint and doesn't play well with others._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This post is long, long overdue and I sincerely hope you find it worth the wait. Tags have updated. Heed them and the warnings below.  
>   
>  **Warnings for:** Possessive and controlling behavior, abusive behavior, non-consensual touching, Loki's dirty mouth, and a delayed response to the words "no" and "stop." It's not really possible to skip all of the Bad Touch bits without losing context so I've stuck a redacted summary of events in the footnotes for anyone who needs it. If this is you, click the asterisk [*] at the end of the line, _"Just breath,"_ and it will jump you to the footnotes. Another link will return you to the text at a safe point. If you're fine with some inappropriate touching and colorful language and just want to avoid the more sexual contact and aforementioned "no" and "stop" click the second asterisk [**] at the end of, "Tony doesn't have a death wish. Really," to skip it.  
> 

"What does that m – "

Loki's sharp question was cut short by a crash from the upstairs lab and the telltale whine of repulsors. A flurry of gold and hot-rod red rocketed into the living room through a shower of shattered glass. Tony winced. He really needed to fine tune those targeting protocols to account for things like furniture and walls.

Tony threw his arms out to meet the Mark 42 gauntlets and he aimed both repulsors at Loki's stupid face the moment they engaged. Loki darted out of the way, too fast for Tony's eyes to track. Tony did not cringe when a vase shattered in Loki's stead. Much.

"That means," Tony kicked a leg out to meet a jet boot, "that I don't have to rely on external sensors to call the armor to me anymore. How do you like that, Princess?" Tony asked and landed a roundhouse kick to Loki's flank as the boot and gauntlets hitched him into the air, adrenaline thrumming electric and familiar through Tony's system, a heady rush that came on almost too fast to moderate. Tony spun in an unsteady circle before stabilizing himself with his uneven propulsion.

 _Fuck fuck fuck_ – Tony's chest was on _fire_ , his wounds bleeding freely at an increasing flow, but Loki's expression was beyond satisfying (even if shock was the only reason Tony had gotten the drop on him). He felt giddy and half-drunk on endorphins and the sharp-edged joy of gaining an advantage hard won.

In the middle of mentally gloating at Loki's stunned, indignant face the second boot and half of the Mark 42 chest piece crossed paths and knocked each other off trajectory with a tremendous crash which . . . okay, that was embarrassing.

Tony aimed another shot at Loki's head but he ducked, expression almost bored, and the framed canvas on the wall behind him smoldered and curled in on itself instead.

Tony sighed. _At this rate, Pep'll murder me if Loki doesn't do it first._ It took more restraint than Tony liked to not lash out and try to torch the smirk off of Loki's face as they both watched the painting burn for an awkward beat.

Loki so easily evading his attempts at retaliation left a bitter taste in Tony's mouth and he struggled to keep his aggravation at bay; giving in to petty rage would only make him sloppy, and carelessness was not a mistake Tony could afford.

But then, Loki was always a step ahead, no matter what Tony did.

"That's very clever, Anthony," Loki said with a huff, looking miffed even as green light sparked and crackled at his fingertips, "but you forget I've still got tricks of my own."

" _Screw you_ – "

Loki whirled away from another blow and slashed his arm through the air. Tony had only a second to wonder what the fuck Loki was doing before the very air vibrated, rattling the windows and Tony's teeth in his skull as an unseen mass of energy swelled within the penthouse and converged into a wave of power following the wake of Loki's gesture. It hit Tony with the force of a bus. He slammed back against the wall hard enough to crack the drywall and slid to the floor in a stunned heap, his ears ringing and a dull pounding pain all along his back throbbing in time with his heartbeat. The remaining incoming pieces of the Mark 42 scattered like shrapnel in all directions, sending up clouds of plaster and wood splintering in bursts.

The throw and subsequent drop jarred Tony's ribs and had him gasping, the air thick with dust and the electric hum of magic, threatening to suffocate him. Everything ached. The black spots were back at the edges of Tony's vision as his mind reeled and grappled for focus, and by the time he picked himself up off the floor, Loki was there to meet him.

He moved in preternaturally fast and closed unyielding hands around Tony's wrists. "I believe I heard you say something once about an 'icing problem' you ran into during early testing of your armor?"

Tony was only able to spare an instant for confusion before the air around them grew chill and Tony's wrists _freezing_ and the sharp crack of shifting ice echoed in the penthouse.

It felt as though all of the moisture in the air was being drawn out, Tony's lungs pulling in breaths thin and dry and _wrong_ , leeched of a base component he would never have known was there until after feeling its absence. A thick, creeping growth of ice flowed out from beneath Loki's hands – _A_ _re his hands blue?_ – until both gauntlets were encased, going dark. Useless.

Loki's smile was grim but self-satisfied. He released the gauntlets and Tony's hands dropped, twice as heavy as before and more weight than Tony could anticipate. The sudden shift in equilibrium had Tony staggering, and Loki took immediate advantage of Tony's faltering and caught him around the waist before he could compensate – or fall on his ass again.

_Fuck._

Tony grit his teeth and hauled up his arms to slam the gauntlets against Loki's shoulders to clumsy ill-effect, unable to get enough momentum to use the excess weight to his advantage in such close quarters. Tony switched tactics and pulled back against Loki's hold, bending back as far as he could within the vice of his arms to use the ballast of Loki's weight as leverage and swing his foot up to use the force of the jetboot to free himself (and if he was lucky, blast the smug fucker right in the face once Tony gained some distance).

Said smug fucker anticipated the move and caught Tony's leg just below the knee mid-swing. A wash of _coldcoldcold_ seeped through Tony's flight suit and the boot iced over into useless dead weight just as the gauntlets had.

_Fuck!_

Loki released Tony's leg and the heavy weight of the ice-encased boot dragged his foot down fast and hard, landing with a _thud_ and skidding across the floor, his equilibrium completely shot. Loki's arm still tight around Tony's waist was the only thing that kept him upright and Tony growled like a caged animal when he was pulled in close to Loki's chest, the hand on his hip shifting and fanning out to grip the small of his back and trail fingertips over the swell of Tony's ass. Loki's fingers dug five icy points into the hollow of Tony's spine.

They hadn't been this close since Thor trashed Tony's bedroom.

"Hey, watch where you're touching – "

Loki rolled his eyes. "Do stop behaving like a child, Dearheart, I'm only cleaning up your mess," he said, sounding harassed. His gaze was intent, sweeping over Tony's face and torso, cataloging damages to be repaired and rectified, a tiny crease between his eyebrows that deepened with every cut and bruise added to the list.

Tony balked at the blatant scrutiny, his skin flushing and prickling with discomfort. He twisted in the circle of Loki's embrace and stifled a squeak when the arms around him squeezed with an insistent and unrelenting pressure and stilled him without Loki so much as batting an eye. Tony felt again the unnatural heat that meant Loki was using his mojo and tensed, knowing there was no chance of avoiding it this time.

Tony's breath rushed out in a whine when sharp fire flared and pulsed in his ribs to repair the fractures, but his chest eased as the magic receded and he could take a full breath for the first time in hours. Tony grimaced though as the skin on his left side began to ache and throb with renewed fervor, tender and feeling stretched too thin as Loki's magic closed up the still-bleeding wounds, magic energy swarming like ants under his skin. He held himself as still as he could while Loki worked and just focused on breathing, unsure what the consequences would be if he thrashed about while being magically stitched up even as his skin crawled at the contact.

The tingling magic receded but Loki's hand at the small of Tony's back didn't move away once Loki finished healing the worst of the damage. Tony fidgeted, growing antsier by the second, shifting to test Loki's hold in a manner not at all casual given how Loki huffed again in irritation.

Tony startled and jerked in earnest when Loki's other hand caught his chin and tilted his head up to look at him, his thumb stroking against Tony's bottom lip and healing the bloody gouge Tony'd bitten into it with a tiny spark of magic.

"Was that really so awful?" Loki's eyes were dark and weary, the corners of his mouth down-turned. No guile, no teasing. It made something in Tony's gut squirm.

Tony swallowed, hyper-aware of how close he and Loki were – _too close_ – and what had almost happened the last time Loki had caught him alone for longer than the two minutes it took for someone else to intervene. Tony tried his best to quell the tremors in his hands despite the fact that Loki couldn't know he was shaking, not with the gauntlets hiding his hands, _but Tony knew, damn it,_ and that was bad enough.

Tony took a shaky breath and tried to center himself but it just wasn't working the way it did when Bruce talked him through it, because this close, Tony could feel Loki's heartbeat, slower in cadence than Tony's racing pulse. He could feel the cool puff of Loki's exhalations against his cheek.

"I . . . " Tony's eyes flitted around the living room hoping for a clue, some kind of answer, and landed on the security camera in the far left corner, its little red indicator light flashing at him. He frowned at it, wondering at the malfunction, something niggling at the back of his mind as it flashed intermittently in a way it shouldn't . . . no, no it wasn't just flashing, that was a pattern –

Morse code.

_Help on the way._

Tony's breath left him in a rush. Jesus, but Tony loved his AI. Loki should know by now it takes a hell of a lot more than fucking with the Tower's systems and a falsified "mute" command to silence JARVIS. He just hoped JARVIS hadn't used video feed to summon the others this time; that tended to lead certain members of the Avengers who-shall-remain-nameless (everyone) to shoot first and ask questions later, and explaining the Tower's expense report to SHIELD and Pepper was already awkward enough without honor-defending brawls thrown into the mix.

"Anthony?"

Tony's eyes snapped back to Loki's, deep green and narrowed in a frown rife with concern rather than suspicion and Tony would have preferred suspicion. 

_I'm not down for the count yet, you prick._

"I was just thinking how stupid it is to heal your opponent." Tony braced himself on his stable foot and swung at Loki's head with his right arm.

_If at first, you don't succeed . . ._

The throw went wide with the weight differential but Tony was better prepared for the disparity this time and managed to connect the edge of the frozen gauntlet with Loki's temple. Loki grunted, surprised more than pained and they swayed like a tree in a strong wind, his arm dropping from around Tony's waist.

The iced boot skid across the floor and ripped an ugly furrow into the carpet as Tony struggled for balance without Loki's support, pinwheeling his arms in a futile attempt to negate gravity and keep his feet. For one glorious instant Tony had it, he was stable, he was _free_ – and then Loki's hands were back on him, slamming him against the wall and holding him pinioned by the wrists with bruising force that Tony could feel through layers of ice and gold titanium alloy.

Loki's eyes were hard and blazing with the kind of heat Tony'd only seen up close and personal on a handful of occasions, none of which had ended well.

Loki crowded in close, hard angles cold fury until Tony had absolutely nowhere to go, caged in by Loki's hands pinning his wrists and a cocked knee between Tony's. The temperature dropped sharply, the air thinning, dry and brittle, a passive warning before a sharp crackling and the resurgence of the clean, cold smell of ice had Tony's wrists iced in place on the wall on either side of his head. Loki smiled then, vitreous and fierce. A thin trickle of blood chased down Loki's left temple to the sharp edge of his jaw. He looked bitter.

"You do try my patience, Pet. It is . . . both my most and least favorite thing about you, at times." Loki was panting, flushed with anger _(please be anger)_ and wearing an awful smile that was looking more and more like a snarl. "I rather wish you would cease taking my affection for granted."

The panic was there, under Tony's skin like the itch of a festering wound, maddening as it ate away at his sense, but he swallowed down the taste of copper at the back of his throat and pushed the panic back into the far corner of his mind. He had to keep it together, just a little longer.

_Help on the way._

Tony shifted restlessly, twisting his arms against the ice (solid) and Loki's bulk (also solid), full of nervous energy that had no outlet, rebounding off the edges of his sanity in a feedback loop hellbent on Tony's destruction.

 _Just breathe._ [*]

He grimaced when Loki pressed flush against him from chest to knees in response to the squirming and with a bolt of chagrin, Tony realized he'd have done much better to just stay still because Loki's breath was quickening in a telltale cadence, the edges of his armor jabbing Tony in the ribs with increasing insistence.

Loki made a soft noise, inquisitive, that had Tony's eyes darting back to Loki's to find his green eyes dark and glinting and dangerous in a way that made Tony's insides turn. It was hard to say whether the numbness suffusing Tony's limbs was from the ice keeping him restrained or from dread.

Slowly, carefully, as though Tony would disappear the second he let go, Loki pulled his hands away from Tony's fixed wrists and ran his fingers down the stiff lines of Tony's arms, slow and exploratory as the muscles twitched and tensed beneath his fingers. One hand detoured to trace the curve of Tony's shoulder and neck while the other trailed over Tony's heaving chest and down the flat of his stomach to settle on his hip. The hand at Tony's neck slid over to grasp at his chin and tipped Tony's head back, the better for Loki to survey him.

Whatever Loki was looking for or whether or not Loki found it Tony would never know, but he promptly stopped caring about deciphering whatever madness was spinning through Loki's mind when Loki leaned in close and nuzzled into Tony's neck, breathing Tony in with a soft, almost inaudible groan. Loki nosed at the rigid arch of Tony's neck and trailed his lips against the skin there, the barest suggestion of a kiss, up to the shell of a reddening ear and Tony lost the battle of reining in his panic.

All of his muscles pulled taut and jerked in rejection of the hard planes of muscle pressed flush against him and the fingers tracing idle patterns into his hip. The hand gripping Tony's chin tightened its hold when he tried to wrench away from the cool whisper of Loki's breath in his ear and Tony's breath hitched.

" _Hey_ – "

"Don't you tire of this silly fighting, Anthony?" Loki's voice was insistent, almost pleading, low and soft yet jarringly loud over the pounding of Tony's heart in his ears. "It's fruitless," Loki murmured, and relaxed his hold on Tony's chin to slide his hand down Tony's throat, surely feeling for himself the telltale thrum of Tony's rabbiting heart. "It does nothing to calm my desires or my determination. You know, I know you do, that I shall have you for my own, at my side. You belong with me."

Tony's stomach flipped in trepidation but something in him snapped, even as Loki's fingers stroked his throat, a caress or a warning, Tony couldn't be sure.

"I'm not _interested_ , you psycho!" Tony yelled, raw and so done with this _Twilight_ stalker bullshit. "I don't want you, or your gifts, or your protection, or any of your fucking baggage. I don't even like _men_ , but you can bet your Godly ass that if I did you're the last guy in the whole Goddamned universe I'd ever fuck!"

The temperature dropped around them, a well of power sight unseen stealing the warmth from the air between them as something shuttered behind Loki's eyes, the green a little less brilliant, colder, even as the smile on his face stretched wide in a parody of humor. "Whatever makes you think you'll be doing the fucking?"

Tony gaped at him, speechless, and spluttered for a moment, his face burning red even as the cold in his extremities spread throughout his body with icy clawing fingers.

"And if you believe your . . . _inexperience_ to be disappointing you are sadly mistaken. To know that I shall be the first, the _only_ to take you," Loki growled, his eyes brightening with a different kind of fire and darting over Tony's face, greedy, "I shall take you apart and forge you anew with my name on your lips and my cock a brand inside of you until it is the only thing you know, that you need."

Tony froze, eyes huge and his breath stuttering in his chest because that's just –

"I will have you begging, your voice hoarse from screaming your pleasure."

Tony watched in stupefied horror as Loki's eyes dilated and took on a manic sheen. Why couldn't he just keep his big mouth shut? Rhodey was forever lamenting Tony's habit of antagonizing . . . well, _everyone_ , if Tony were honest, but particularly anyone who, say, had him backed into a corner, or was holding a gun to Tony's head.

Tony doesn't have a death wish. Really.[**]

Tony jolted in Loki's embrace and whined in distress when the hand at his hip slipped down to dig fingers into his ass and hitched Tony's leg up around Loki's waist, and _Jesus fucking Christ_ why had he designed the Goddamn undersuit to be so skimpy –

Loki's breathing had taken a ragged edge, his body tense and shaking with barely controlled strength as he tucked his nose behind Tony's ear and mouthed at the sensitive skin there. Loki stroked his thumb along the line of Tony's jaw and the hand on Tony's ass squeezed spasmodically, fumbling and artless as though Loki couldn't help himself. Every so often Loki's hips ground against Tony's, hot and hard and impossible to ignore. Tony felt like he was going to be sick.

"No – "

He strained against Loki's weight and the solidity of the wall at his back, his breath coming fast and thin. The air was stiflingly hot and heavy despite Loki's Snow Miser routine, pressing down on Tony's lungs as though it might suffocate him even as he fought to breathe it in. He felt overheated and numb all at once.

Loki rocked against him, graceless and harried as though Tony might vanish and Loki wouldn't get another chance. He sucked at Tony's carotid and nipped with his sharp canines. Tony choked on the little air he was still managing to breathe in and tried to twitch his hips away from the burning grind but he was trapped tight. His arms twisted uselessly in the frozen gauntlets, restless against the ice keeping them in place. He whined again when Loki shifted to hook Tony's knee over his elbow and pushed his leg back and up, _open_ , and fucking hell Tony's body isn't supposed to bend that way.

"Stop – "

Loki rocked against him again and _oh_ , oh no, that felt –

 _Oh fuck, don't do that, no,_ " – no, no, don't – " Tony wasn't even aware that he was speaking, animal sounds of protest and aborted pleasure twisted up in the rough rasp of his breath. " – stop, _please_ – "

Tony didn't want to feel good.

A hand cupped Tony's cheek in a gesture that might have been sweet had Loki's touch been desirable, and for the first time in minutes, Loki pulled away to look at Tony, a little frown on his face.

The frown deepened as he really looked at Tony and something cleared in his gaze, the mad fire clouding his eyes receding. Something clicked in Loki's brain and he went rigid, tearing himself away from Tony and backing away, his face twisting with what looked like guilt.

Loki opened his mouth as though to speak, before seeming to think better of it and snapping it shut, his expression wretched. It was a surprise when he stepped back into Tony's space, framing Tony's face with cautious, gentle hands after a moment of hesitation.

Tony couldn't parse the reaction – Loki's expression only grew bleaker by the second – until the roar of Tony's blood in his ears died down enough for him to figure out Loki was trying to calm him down. He was shushing Tony, who to his own horror realized that the distressed, ragged panting echoing in the otherwise quiet room was coming from him. Tony wanted to be mortified but he didn't have the capacity to care.

Loki stroked at Tony's cheek with the pad of his thumb, awkward and stiff. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Tony's temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. "Hush," Loki murmured, tight and raw, "I'm sorry, hush now, Darling, I'm _sorry_ – "

The only warning was a muted _clang_ and _thump_ before an arrow sliced a bloody trail across the arch of Loki's cheek and embedded in the drywall beside Tony's head.

"Back the fuck up right now, Loki, or I will end you."

Clint's eyes were grim and hard as flint, his mouth a thin white line. Tony could see a tick jumping in the left side of his clenched jaw, and Clint's every line was a study in tension, wound as tight as his bow as he nocked another arrow and leveled it at Loki's head.

A peal of anxious laughter almost escaped Tony's mouth at the bizarre contrast of Clint's murderous disposition to the grey sweatpants and ridiculous bright purple t-shirt he wore with "Hawkass" stamped across the chest in bold white text (one of Tony's better gifts).

The pounding of heavy footsteps could be heard in the stairwell and the howling of turbulent wind outside.

_The cavalry is here._

All of the softness in Loki evaporated, his face folding into a hateful sneer.

"This doesn't concern you, Little Bird, and I suggest you leave before I lose my patience." Loki crowded in against Tony again and hunched his body around him as if to hide Tony from view, consequently bringing into contact places Tony was trying his very best to ignore (and it wasn't quite working). Tony writhed against his bonds and Loki's stupid, heavy body and did not – absolutely _did not_ – whimper.

Except maybe a little.

Both Clint and Loki growled at the sound of it, one in rage and the other in banked desire.

"Get your filthy fucking hands off of him!" Clint yelled.

Behind Clint, Natasha dropped from the open ceiling vent into a crouch, her eyes flashing bright and dangerous as she assessed the scene. She flanked Clint's left side, a pistol in one hand and a wicked knife in the other. She too had changed into lounge clothes, a dark pair of soft looking leggings and one of Bruce's wool knit sweaters.

A beat later the stairwell door burst open and Steve charged into the room. He was only half dressed and his hair was dripping wet but his face was set and determined, his shield in hand. His eyes went wide and horrified as soon as he got a good look at what Loki was doing.

 _Sorry, Cap, this is a new low, even for me,_ Tony thought deliriously. He twisted his arms against the ice binding them again and finally, _finally_ felt something give with a quiet _snap_ that went unheard over all of the territorial snarling.

"Loki!"

As he occasionally was wont to do, Thor managed to time his entrance perfectly.

The balcony doors blew wide open with the howling wind and Thor strode inside. The wind whipped Thor's hair about his shoulders and whistled its fury around the penthouse, and behind him, the sky outside painted a dark, dire background.

An intimidating entrance, to be certain, although somewhat ruined by the fact Thor was dressed in ratty sweatpants and a t-shirt advertising "Free Hugs."

"Release the Man of Iron at once. You shall not like it if I have to ask you again."

Loki sneered at Thor, pointy teeth and derision, and opened his mouth to snipe back something Tony assumed would be wildly hurtful and cutting. Figuring Loki was as distracted as he was ever going to get Tony wrenched the frozen gauntlets free from the wall in a shower of melting ice and swung both down at Loki's head. Both fists connected with a meaty _crack_ , the reverberation of which Tony felt all the way up to his shoulders.  
  
No problems with momentum or balance that time.

Loki's breath left him in a hard exhale and his knees buckled, sending both of them tumbling to the ground in an ungainly heap of limbs and ice and freezing metal. Tony and Loki slid about and clumsily grappled with each other in a struggle for dominance like small children play-fighting. Tony had absolutely no compunctions about jabbing Loki in the eye or kneeing him in the groin.

There was a chorus of shouting and the shrill whine of a priming taser in the background (Goddamn it, even Agent was witness to this royal fuck-up) but Tony was too preoccupied with getting his feet back under himself, to find leverage or any kind of edge to drag his sorry bedraggled pride back out of the mud. Loki kept trying to cover Tony as if to protect him which made _no fucking sense_ , shouldn't he be using Tony like a meat-shield instead? The last thing Tony needed saving from was his friends.

_Fuck this._

Tony beat his right gauntlet against the floor and forced his fingers to flex to break up the melting ice, and after a long, awkward moment in which Loki all but smothered Tony against the floor to dodge another arrow Tony's efforts were rewarded by the reawakening flare of light as the gauntlet came back online.

"Hey, Horny," Tony said, glowering into Loki's wide, green eyes when his gaze snapped to look at him. "No means no." He pushed his hand in Loki's face and fired.

For a moment – a fleeting, joyful moment – Tony thought he'd won.

And yeah, Tony really hates being wrong.

Loki was crouched over on top of Tony, and then he wasn't. The repulsor blast missed its mark and scorched the sofa and the far wall.

Tony twisted around onto his knees to see where the bastard had gone only for a hand to fist into the neck of his undersuit and haul him to his feet. Tony swayed and stumbled and all but choked himself before regaining his feet and surveying the sight of five Loki's standing in a ring with Tony and a sixth Loki at the center. All were disheveled and sporting bloody lips, all wore the same nasty smirk. All held glowing green power in the palms of his hands, a threat and a warning that the team seemed dead-set on ignoring with impunity.

There was more shouting and the sing of Steve's shield cutting a path across the room that was repelled by a crackling flare of green energy. Three arrows that were brushed aside and a thrown knife that was reflected. Tony had trouble attending to outside stimuli, however, more concerned with the arm wrapping around his chest and the hand still clenching the neck of the undersuit, too tight and just this side of suffocating.

Tony growled, frustration overriding sense and fired his good gauntlet at the still-frozen left to blast the stubborn ice apart. Pain flared from Tony's left wrist all the way up his arm but the awakening whine of the (smoking, huh, that can't be good) second gauntlet more than made up for whatever bruises Tony would have later. Falling back on Loki's weight for support Tony aimed both gauntlets behind himself at Loki's face where he could feel Loki's breath tickling the hairs on his nape, the priming whine of the repulsors shrill over the clamoring voices and clashing of arms.

Loki snarled, a sound both impatient and exasperated, and hissed words strange and foreign, guttural and chilling in a way his ice trick hadn't been.

Magic energy rushed over Tony's skin like an electric current and converged on the armor which began to spark and creak as something unseen rippled and rebounded, stronger and stronger with each pass. After only seconds, with a rattle and the whine of distressed metal, the armor shook itself apart, breaking down to its composite parts in a waterfall of scraps that tumbled to Tony's feet.

Tony's heart skipped and his bare hands trembled, free now for the whole world to see. He swayed in Loki's arms, unsteady and a little lightheaded. Loki had just – _he could have, this whole time,_ every _time –_

_Why didn't he do that from the very start?_

Tony fumbled at Loki's arm, his movements sluggish, his hands numb and clumsy as Loki adjusted his grip and hooked his chin over Tony's shoulder, his cheek resting against Tony's temple – _too fucking close_ – the hand wrapped in the neck of the flight suit unclenching and curling around Tony's throat to stroke over his stuttering pulse and the other leaving bruises on Tony's ribs.

Loki regarded the Avengers with dark, cold eyes. His face looked pinched and stubborn, mulish, like a kid who doesn't want to share his toys with the other children at the playground.

"Brother, unhand the Man of Iron and leave this place now and I shall not follow."

Clint scoffed, incredulous, but shut his mouth when Natasha elbowed him in the ribs.

"If you continue this foolishness I will not hesitate to bring you back to the halls of Asgard to reckon with our father. Again." Thor said. His face was set and determined, his eyes hard and sparking with electricity, his mouth a thin line devoid of his usual levity.

Loki went rigid, vibrating with rage, and Tony's hair stood on end as the air around them hummed with magic energy. " _Our father!_ You dare invoke that old fool in efforts to appeal to me? To _threaten me?"_

"Uh, Thor," Steve said, "that might not be the best – "

Tony choked as the hands on him tightened to the point of pain. "Okay, that's – that's not helping – stop helping – _Thor, stop helping_ – "

Tony's breath caught as his air was cut off by the hand on his throat. Tony whimpered, soft and desperate and so not what he'd meant to do.

Loki released his hold on Tony's neck immediately but there was no time to feel relief as Tony heaved in oxygen before Loki wrapped himself around Tony like a clingy octopus, the conflicting sensations of the chilled point of his nose and warm _whuff_ of his exhalations against the skin behind Tony's ear and the nape of his neck all kinds of distracting.

Tony could feel the rumble in Loki's chest at his back before Loki growled, "You think I care what Odin thinks? You think me frightened of his disapproval? Of Asgard? _You are wrong._ " Loki buried his nose in Tony's hair and brushed his lips against his sweaty nape, lingered there, and leveled a challenging glare at the others. "I have come to claim what is mine, and take my leave. Do not delude yourselves into thinking I care for anything more." The Loki-doubles tightened ranks around Tony and the real Loki, a ring of sneering malice.

Tony fought to swallow around the lump in his throat and clawed at Loki's hands on him, the thunder of his heart nearly drowning out all else. Scenarios and tactics flowered and wilted in quickening succession as Tony's mind weighed factors and calculated the probability of each plan his overwrought mind generated to get him the hell out of this mess. Nothing panned out in Tony's favor, and Tony's math is never wrong.

His eyes, desperate and burning, cast about the room and found Bruce's, wide and flashing green from where he stood stock-still in the stairwell doorway.

 _And now it's a party,_ Tony thought deliriously through his panic.

He was going to have to hire a contractor to rebuild the top floors of the tower again, he just knew it.

Bruce stepped into the penthouse, his steps slow and measured, his face a stony mask. His eyes were fixed on Loki, who stiffened at Tony's back as soon as he caught sight of Bruce. Bruce stopped at the edge of the sunken living room where everyone else was assembled and glowered down at the cluster of Lokis.

Phil side-eyed Bruce and cleared his throat, loud in the tense, awkward silence. "Dr.Banner, I thought we agreed that you would wait in the Hulk Room unless called for."

Bruce held Loki's gaze, unwavering. "Yeah, well I was watching the security feed and decided I didn't like what I was seeing. I figured it was time Loki and I have a little chat."

Fuck, a whole team of contractors.

"Bruce – "

"No, Steve, this has gone on long enough!" Bruce snarled, face flushing green for a moment before he visibly calmed himself, breathing deep and measured until the green receded from his complexion. Loki flinched, just a little, and Tony had to swallow the hysterical laughter bubbling up in his chest. This was going to end _so badly._

Loki molded himself more tightly against Tony's back, his breath gusting in Tony's ear and making him shiver. Loki's face was paler than it had been a minute ago but his voice was steady as he bared his teeth at Bruce. "You would do well to not meddle in affairs that do not concern you, _Doctor_."

"No, see that's where you're wrong," Bruce said, voice sharp. "You sexually harassing and terrorizing my friend absolutely concerns me, and you should think very carefully on what you do next because the Other Guy is champing at the bit to go another round with you and the longer you have your hands where they don't belong the more I'm convinced he has the right idea."

Loki (and Tony in tow) took a step back and immediately looked furious with himself if the scowl on his face and the light flush high on his cheeks meant anything. He schooled his face and regarded Bruce with an air that screamed "haughty." The part of Tony's brain that wasn't panicking and calculating probable damages wondered idly how much Loki had to practice in front of a mirror to perfect his various expressions.

"The only reason I have not yet harmed any of you fools – and believe you me, I have spent many an hour in wistful contemplation of the varied and numerous ways in which to destroy you – is because, for whatever reason, Anthony cares for you. For his sake, I would rather this not end in violence. Do not force my hand."

For one glorious second, the entire team wore a matching expression of "are you fucking kidding me" and Tony desperately wanted a framed photo of it to hang in the communal living room.

Agent collected his wits first. "You brought violence into play the moment you set foot on this planet," Phil snapped, his usual cool unflappable demeanor fraying at the edges. Tony didn't know whether to be awed or ashamed that this is what it took to crack Phil's composure. "And you made this our business the second you dared lay hands on Tony without permission."

"You should not speak of things you do not understand," Loki rumbled, cold and dangerous, his arms around Tony feeling more and more like a cage.

"From where I'm standing you're the one who doesn't understand," Steve said, looking angrier than Tony has ever seen him (and considering that thing with the _Vanity Fair_ interview and a colorfully sabotaged list of popular modern slang, that was saying something). "Whatever you hoped to accomplish here when you started all of this you've failed, miserably. It was flawed from the start. If you have any sort of decency you'll accept your loss with whatever shred of honor you've got left and leave Tony alone."

"You give him too much credit," Natasha said, her voice low and monotonous in the way that means she's feeling especially stabby and that whoever is pissing her off needs to _run the fuck away right now_. "Loki has neither decency nor honor."

Thor frowned, a tick in his jaw, but said nothing to contest Natasha's assessment.

"The only flaw in my plan was not accounting for how insufferably meddlesome all of you are and underestimating just how far you would strive to unravel my designs by interfering and whispering poison in Anthony's ear," Loki said behind gritted teeth bared in a sneer. "It's no wonder he's so ready to vilify me, with all of you feeding him vitriol at every turn."

"Oh, _you fucker,_ " Clint growled. Another arrow ricocheted off of whatever magical bubble Loki had constructed around them and Clint only seemed to take it as a challenge and pulled three more arrows of various destructive capabilities. "You unbelievable dick, Tony didn't need any help from the rest of us to form his opinion of you, are you kidding me? Forget all of the bad-touch, interstellar stalker bullshit, New Mexico, Stuttgart, the Triskellion, you playing puppet master and stabbing people in the chest – _you tried to mind control him and threw him out of a fucking window before opening a portal over his tower and leading an alien army in a bid to conquer humanity!"_

"The circumstances of our first encounter were not . . . ideal," Loki hedged and had he the mobility Tony would have face-palmed. "But everything I've done since that foolish endeavor is for Anthony's benefit, to place him at my side, _where he belongs_."

Natasha's face contorted into a perfect "bitch please" expression and fuck, Tony wants that framed too.

Bruce just looked incredulous, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly a couple of times before he found his voice again. "You, you are the worst kind of predator, you know that? Because in your mind you haven't done anything wrong. But you'd better listen, pal, because I'm gonna spell it out for you: no one belongs to anyone, in any sense or capacity, if both parties don't agree. Tony isn't some prize or a pet, he's a person, and if you're so devoted to the idea of being with him then you should start treating him with respect and listening to him when he tells you 'no.' Because the best way to demonstrate to someone that they should have nothing to do with you is to ignore them when they deny consent."

Loki was silent, his grip on Tony unwavering even as he flushed a dull red. That kicked-puppy look of guilty dismay was back in his eyes and Tony tried very hard to not get his hopes up that this whole mess would wrap itself up without incurring any more property damage or a feature on the five o'clock news.

A man can dream.

"Brother," Thor said, careful and gentle as though Loki were a wild animal, which . . . wasn't too far off the mark. "I know this clash of arms is not what you intended when you began your . . . courtship. That despite your honest and true intentions – "

"Are you _shitting me_ – " Natasha and Phil moved in scary synchronicity to gag and restrain Clint.

" – matters have spiraled out of control. Mistakes have been made, many mistakes. Passions have run wild and gotten away from us all and brewed into a tempest, and I know in my heart, brother, that this is not how you wish to ignite the flames of your great romance."

Someone, Tony wasn't sure who, gagged, but it was hard to focus with the ringing in his ears and his muscles locking up tight despite all of his efforts to stay loose and find a weakness to exploit in Loki's distraction. But also, _gag._

"Loki, please," Thor beseeched, his eyes shining in manner Tony had only thought possible in Disney movies. "Release Tony and we can talk about this like civilized men."

Bruce snorted and crossed his arms over his chest and Clint and Natasha shared a sideways glance before Phil stopped their creepy telepathic conversation/murder plot with a sharp shake of his head to which both of the spysassins looked mutinous but obeyed nonetheless. Steve was wearing the contrived, straight-laced schoolboy mask that he assumed when pretending to listen to orders.

So many contractors.

"There is nothing for us to talk about," Loki hissed, but the biting edge to his words was gone leaving him sounding somewhat deflated, and for the first time Tony could picture what the dynamic between Thor and Loki must have been like when they were very young, before jealousy and bitter resentment took root and the giant Odin-shaped stick lodged itself up Loki's ass. He could see it, just then; Thor, boisterous and golden and hard to contain; Loki, slight and quiet, small in his brother's shadow and asking himself why.

"Nothing you or any of your compatriots can say will sway me, and I would think, _brother_ , that you would know this by now."

"And what of our mother?" Thor asked.

The silence was heavy in the pregnant pause that followed.

" . . . I can't believe you said that with a straight face." Clint said, his voice a cross between impressed and disgusted.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," Steve muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as if pained. Bruce had his face in his hands and Tasha turned her stone-cold-killer-assassin eyes on Thor in a slow-mo head turn that gave Tony palpitations from proximity alone.

It was, to exactly no one's surprise, the worst possible thing Thor could have said.  
  
Loki was puffed-up and spitting like an affronted cat in three seconds flat, looking both enraged and embarrassed. Thor winced, his face a study in dismay, aware that he'd stuck his foot in it as he immediately tried to backtrack. "Loki – "

"I will hear not one more word from any of you gibbering imbeciles!" Loki shouted, and Tony was honestly surprised Loki wasn't foaming at the mouth for how rabid he looked. Loki turned Tony about and pulled him in close to his chest, a gesture both protective and possessive as he stroked shaking fingers through Tony's hair in a rough caress, incongruous with his murderous expression. Outside of Tony's line of sight was movement and flaring green lights and an assortment of swearing in at least three different languages.

Tony's arms were trapped between them, Loki wrapped around him like a straight jacket. He couldn't stop himself from struggling, thrashing in Loki's arms and finding no leverage. Tony only stopped when Loki moved a leg between Tony's and forced Tony up onto his toes lest he be forced to straddle the leather-clad knee invading way too far into his personal space.

He stared at the distorted reflection of his own wide eyes in the armored panels at Loki's throat as irrational panic beat through his system like a bass drum, shaking Tony to his bones. He could feel something brewing in the air around them, something big, the air thrumming with energy in a way Tony was coming to recognize when Loki harnessed his magic.

Tony knew, with absolute certainty, that he was royally fucked if Loki completed whatever spell he was trying to cast under the cover of all of the childish bickering. He knew that the theatrics with the team dividing Loki's attention was the only reason Loki had not yet finished casting it. And Tony knew the only reason Loki was still throwing a tantrum in the middle of the Tower penthouse was to wait out the delay.

Loki may be the master but Tony can bullshit with the best of them; he knows when someone is stalling for time.

Movement over Loki's shoulder at the open balcony doors drew Tony's eye and reminded him that diversionary tactics can sometimes benefit both sides.

 _"Remove yourself from Mr.Stark's person or I shall remove you by force."_ JARVIS' voice projected loud and in surround sound in a tone that brooked no arguments from the speakers of the five different armors storming into the penthouse. They circled behind Tony and the crowd of Lokis, mirroring the Avengers on the other side. _"Failure to comply will result in the implementation of emergency security protocols to be used at my discretion and with extreme prejudice."_

This time, Tony couldn't contain his tense, anxious laughter, feeling pride and terror in equal parts.

_Yup, definitely ending up on the news._

Loki's fingers curled in like claws, digging hard enough into Tony's skin to leave marks, but he smiled like a shark over his shoulder at the armors. "Oh, I'd like to see you try,"

At the ominous chorus of priming weapons, Tony found his voice.

"Okay, _whoa,_ whoa, wait, JARVIS – delay protocol, _delay,_ override alpha echo sierra 34-44-54-64 – can we please not blow up my tower again, please? Everybody just needs to calm the hell down and back off and _get their fucking hands off of me!"_

Tony's voice cracked at the last, and had he the ability to care at the moment he would have cringed at how desperate he sounded.

But no, right now, _right fucking now_ he needed to get away from Loki because that something – that thrumming, coalescing something – was at the precipice of completion and he needed to be anywhere but plastered against Loki's chest when it happened.

Loki looked down at him with a fleeting pensive frown, and Tony might have thought Loki was sorry if he believed for a second that Loki even knew what he was supposed to feel sorry for.

_Five._

"You heard him," Steve barked in his command voice, "let Tony go."

Beside him, Bruce's breathing had taken a harsh edge, his white-knuckled fists shaking and starting to swell.

_Four._

Natasha flipped her hair over her shoulder and whipped out three more knives from nowhere, her lips a hard thin line. Clint pulled a stun arrow from his quiver – and not a regular, field-tested and Stark-approved stun arrow but one of the experimental _(unpredictable and dangerous and should have been locked up under three levels of security)_ prototypes – his smile brittle and too many teeth.

_Three._

Phil raised his taser gun with precise, steady hands, his face gone especially bland in the way that precedes a deluge of paperwork and pain for anyone dumb enough to cross him.

All of the Iron Man suits mimicked the movement at Loki's back, readying their various artillery as JARVIS said, _"This is your final warning,"_   his normally smooth vocal tones rough and popping over the speakers as though he were well and truly angry.

_Two._

Thor's grip on Mjolnir tightened, the leather bound around the handle creaking in protest. He seemed to swell, big and imposing, puffing out his chest like a mama bear defending her cubs. "It is time for these games to end, Loki!" he thundered, the storm outside echoing the sentiment.

_One._

Loki grinned, an ugly, broken thing. "For once, Thor, we agree."

The air around them hissed and sparked, and Tony knew that time was up.

_Game over._

Everyone realized what was about to happen at the very moment it was too late to stop it. Shouted protestations were lost in the thunder of Loki detonating his protective bubble outwards like a bomb, his doubles rushing at the others with a foreign battle cry, a final blinding diversion.

Loki locked himself tightly around Tony and there was a pull like a hook had buried itself in Tony's gut. The world turned on its side and spun, Tony's vision reduced to a blur of burning green embers and a tangle of limbs and inky black hair as that jagged hook, the inexorable tug at the base of his spine, pulled him inside out and hurtled them into darkness – into nothing – the echo of his friends shouting after him snuffed out in the void.

 

 

_To be continued._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "stop helping" exchange is inspired by a scene from _Kiss Kiss Bang Bang_ , a movie that should be compulsory viewing for anyone who loves RDJ, sass, homoerotic humor and detective/noir stories.  
>   
>   
>   
> *Redacted Scene Summary  
>   
> A/N: Be warned, this reads a lot like the summaries and outlines I write for myself, by which I mean it's stupid and jokey and occasionally bad English.  
>   
> Loki gets unnecessarily close and starts showing signs of an undesirable physiological response when Tony struggles against him. Tony panics a little.  
>   
> Tony protests the lack of personal space and they have a pretty one-sided conversation about how silly and tiresome and fruitless (for Tony) the awkward dance they've been doing is. Loki is genuinely put-out about Tony's reluctance. He implies that he's ready to stop playing around and that Tony should give up because nothing Tony does will deter him. Loki reiterates that he will have Tony for his own, at his side. He says Tony belongs with him. He believes Tony knows this to be true (Tony doesn't).  
>   
> Tony is freaked out but his anger is stronger. He ~~screams at~~ informs Loki that he wants nothing to do with him, his gifts, his protection, or his baggage, and then overshares that he doesn't even like men – but if he did Loki is the last guy in the universe he'd ever fuck.  
>   
>  Things get frosty. Loki is hurt by the rejection but tries to pretend he's not. He questions why Tony thinks he'd be the one doing the fucking. Tony . . . does not know what to say to that.  
>   
> Bruised pride aside, Loki is pretty thrilled that Tony's never been with a guy and that he'll be the first. He tells Tony as much, gets a zealous gleam in his eye and says, a little too descriptive for Tony's nerves, how he wants to pleasure Tony until he's begging and that all Tony will want is Loki (because Loki has a gigantic ego and knows a challenge when he hears one).  
>   
> Tony mentally laments his big mouth and his inability to not antagonize _everyone_ , but especially people who are dangerous and/or have him cornered. He tries to convince himself that no, he doesn't have a death wish. Really.  
>   
> Tony is tempting (and immobilized), and Loki's mind is stuck in the gutter caught up in the fantasy of it all. His hands wander. Tony regrets everything about the design of the undersuit.  
>   
> Loki is not practiced or smooth with his moves, too drunk on being close to Tony and the prospect of attaining his desires to immediately realize that Tony is Not Happy despite all cues to the contrary. Tony tells Loki he is Not Happy, and after a moment Loki gets hit by a clue-by-four and backs the hell off feeling like the universe's biggest asshole.  
>   
> [return to text]  
> 


End file.
